Don't Stop the Dance
by Xionin
Summary: B/S *COMPLETE* Season 7 as it could have been, begins just after Get It Done.
1. Soul Cages

**Title**: Soul Cages (Chapter 1 of Don't Stop the Dance)  
**Author**: Xionin  
**Rating**: PG-13 this chapter.  
**Pairing**: Buffy/Spike. Other major characters included.  
**Feedback**: I would love to hear from you! perra_de_amor@yahoo.com  
**Distribution**: I would be honored, just let me know where.  
**Disclaimer**: All characters belong to Mutant Enemy and Joss Whedon...which is a crime. What's the old saying? "Youth is wasted on the young." These characters are wasted on them.

~Xionin

Soul Cages

"Bloody hell." Spike grumbles as he storms away from Revello drive, his black leather armor flowing behind him with familiar fluidity. He'd left the Summers home only after making sure Buffy was back and relatively unharmed. He felt no need to stay and gloat in his capture of the demon. Argue that the 'big bad' was back. He knows it is a small drop in the proverbial bucket.

"I know what she's trying to do," he mutters, continuing the argument with the voice in his head. "But...bloody hell!"

He winces as he recalls her words. _I want *dangerous* Spike: the one that tried to kill me when we first met. _"Was she kidding," he thinks aloud. She wants the one that he'd gone, quite literally, through Hell to get rid of? The one that failed her? The one that nearly…

**No, that's not what she was saying at all, was it?**

"Well...I get it," he answers himself. "Not pulling our own, are we now? That's the point an' all, innit?." he kicks a rock on the ground with a little too much force and it careens into the side of a parked car, nicking the paint and setting off an alarm in the process. 

"Bullocks!" Spike quickly rounds the corner, not wanting a confrontation with an angry car owner, unless it happened to be another nasty.

"All of us 're slackers or whatever ridin' her coattails and what-not." He reasons. "Doesn't take a bloody genius to suss that one out, does it?" his pace slows at the realization, his anger lulling to mere annoyance.

"What a motley crew, us lot." he instinctively turns towards Willy's, the need to slam down a few drinks weighing on him heavily.

"Yeah, we're quite a bunch of bloody warriors." He muses. "A Wicca afraid of her own power..." he thinks of the destruction the normally gentle willow had wreaked in his absence last year. Wonders, briefly, if things could have been different had he stayed. But he couldn't have, could he. **Not after...**

_Spike, I'm hurt._

He physically shakes the thought.

"Hell I'm bloody afraid of Red m'self," he snorts to no one. Instead he thinks of Anya, which leads to another painful memory. Again he shakes it off and searches his pockets for cigarettes.

"Let's see..." he continues his walking analysis. "We've got an ex-vengeance demon with the tact of beans on toast. A self-righteous watcher with a major chip." He admits to feeling a pang of sympathy for what Giles had been through recently.

"Guess I'd 'ave one to, if..." he doesn't want to finish that thought. Doesn't want to think of the obliteration of the watcher's council: all those people…all those souls. Sure they weren't exactly friends. Barely tolerated each other, really. But he…they…didn't deserve that. No.

"Oh," he rouses himself out of the temporary bout of, whatever, "and an infuriating whelp of a handyman who's major talent is getting sliced up by his dates" he takes a moment to appreciate his own wit.

"Hmmph...doesn't take a bloody genius to know that all she's really got watchin' 'er back are a bunch o' scared chits and a coupla of little boys. And Giles.

"And the principal."

**The principal.**

This stops him in his tracks. He's inundated with thoughts of the Slayer and her new…ally.

**Buffy and the principal on a date, him bloody feeding her "the best thing" she's ever had in her mouth.**

**The principal, son of a slayer.**

**Buffy and the principal working together all day.**

**Walking with Buffy in the sunlight, her hair golden, her skin...ok, new thought QUICK.**

"Didn't know slayers had kids."

**Thoughts of Buffy as a mother.**

A slow smile spreads across his face and his head drops at the thought, his chest full of pride at the possibility.

"She'd make a great mum," he says softly.

**Thoughts of a bite size Buffy playing in her pram, smiling up at her mommy and daddy.**

"Daddy."

**Who would that be? Not me, that's for bloody sure.**

Not wanting to linger on that notion, he resumes his trek to Willy's.

"Yeah, she's got the principal," he continues glancing about: nope, no one to catch him in this one-voiced conversation.

**She's got me. Yeah, she's got me all right. Nice and tidy.**

At that thought his quickens his pace from anger, perhaps, or is it fear.

"I shoulda left," he voices to the night. "'It's not time for him yet' it says to the little boy. Not time. Time for what? Shoulda left, but couldna. Not when she says..."

_I'm not ready for you to not be here._

**And what did that bloody mean, anyway.**

He turns down an empty alley.

Yeah, he knows what it sounded like, but he's long given up any hope. He is nearly content just to be near her and to be there for her and the niblet in the thick of the fight.

He's nearly content knowing that she believes in him somewhat, and that she needs him…for…anything. "Anything at all, really."

'I'm alright' he'd told her, when inside it was killing him that she was so tender now, and yet so far away. She was responding to the brand new spark within him with gentle touches, careful concern and yet she is just as confused as ever. 

But it _is_ different. She is different. _They_ are different...with each other. More...

"Dunno...something," he finishes the thought with a sigh.

"Need a smoke." He searches his pockets and finds a box with one lone cigarette. His hands are shaky and he drops the pack trying to get the damned thing out. He kicks it further down the alley, near a puddle, when he steps forward and reaches down to pick it up.

"Oh BLOODY HELL!" He screams and kicks a nearby trashcan.

"Well, well…if it isn't Sunnydale's very own Benedict Arnold." A large, gritty looking vampire steps from the shadows and between Spike and his wayward pack of…uh…cigarette.

"Fellas," two vamps, a blonde and a redhead, round the corner of the building into Spike's view. "_This_ is the Slayer's little lapdog." He eyes the other two, and they circle behind.

"If you get close enough to read his collar, the name on it says Spike." Laughter all around. Spike just rolls his eyes, but he is assessing the strength of the three.

"Here Spikey, Spike. " The redhead chuckles a little too heartily at his master's lame joke.

**Brown noser.**Spike emits a low growl followed by a slow, gutteral laugh that eventually becomes bellowing.

"What's so _fucking_ funny?" The leader masks his sudden apprehension with bravado.

"Ohhhhhhhhhhhhhhh mate. You _really_ don't wanna be standin' where you're standin' right now." He looks down at the box containing his last cigarette.

"Oh no?" The vamp, eyeing the object on the ground, slowly and deliberately steps on the dropped box, grinding its contents to dust beneath his boot.

Spike looks down at the debris and then slowly up at the offender, his eyes flashing yellow. "No."

He slips into game face and, in a single fluid motion of his leather duster, sends a roundhouse kick to the vamp's face, staking him as he struggles to regain his balance.

All the redheaded vamp sees is a fist coming through the cloud of dust as Spike lands a right on his jaw. He swings wildly at his nimble elder and misses horribly.

He pays for it by receiving a kick from Spike's steel-toed Doc Martens to his ribcage. There's a distinct sound of breaking bones. Spike follows the kick with an elbow to the back of the head. He stumbles forward and looks up in time to say "oh sh-" as Spike pulls him back by the hair and plunges the stake into him.

This leaves the quiet vamp, who is frozen in terror. He's obviously a fledgling. Spike can smell his panic and hesitates in his advance on the youngster, feeling a bit sorry for him. He can feel his fangs retreat as he slips back into his human appearance. 

Perhaps nineteen years old, the boy has hair so blonde that it's almost white. Coupled with the saucers he now has for eyes, he is quite the picture of fear. He's also not in game face and looks very much like a child.

"Oi." Spike drops his fight stance and nods to the frightened newly-dead's head of hair. "How'd you do that…get it so-" He steps closer, pointing at the kid with the stake. The other man cowers back a step. "I've never been able to m'self. Bloody uncooperative, this." He points to his own closely cropped, blonde head. "But yours. You use peroxide?"

"Uh-uh..it-it-it's natural, actually." Comes the shaky reply from the retreating vamp, his Southern California accent prominent.

"Oh geeehht out, really?" Spike's attention is now totally focused on the shiny happy strands of perfect blonde hair on the youngster's head. He squints his eyes, searching for the tell-tale brown roots. Not seeing any, he flashes a bright smile at his confused opponent.

"Bloody brilliant, that." Having had his curiosity satisfied, Spike resumes his predatory glowering, stake twirling in his fingers.

"Uh…th-th-thanks?" The vamp doesn't know whether to run or what. He makes a half-hearted attempt at a defensive stance but then decides it's better to be a coward and unlive another day. He turns and takes off running down the alley.

"Cor…runs like a little girl." Spike muses, shaking his head in disgust. He moves to give chase but then realizes he doesn't feel the desire for another kill. In fact the last two have left a bitter taste in his mouth. The sooner he gets that first cigarette the better. And if he's going to have one, well, it's like the advertisement says: betcha you can't…

"Bugger!" he rounds the corner and throws open the door to Willy's. Spotting a stool at the far end in the shadows, he plops down and demands a bottle of Jack and his first pack of cigarettes of the night.

TBC Chapter 2: Contact


	2. Contact

Author's note: I always like to think that there were a few moments between Buffy and Spike where she couldn't delude herself and ignore the man in front of her. Of course, she'd always deny it afterwards, but I like the idea of her having to face her own lie occasionally and being powerless to her feelings….even momentarily.

Thanks for your reviews. My responses – Of course Spike is going to _try_ to agree with Buffy and rationalize her speech. He always makes an attempt to convince himself that she's right. Somewhere inside he believes that she is better than him. It won't be until he realizes that he is her equal that they can truly come to terms with what's between them. IMHO

Enjoy!

Chapter Two - Contact

Buffy didn't say much after showing Willow the vision. There wasn't much to be said and Willow left the room with a wan smile, after they'd sat in silence for what must have been an hour. She said nothing about the sea of uber vamps, the flames. Nothing about the demon the shaman had tried to 'introduce' her to. Nothing about motivational speech #666. What was there to say?

Yeah, she had come down hard on everyone, but she's wasn't a motivational speaker. Their only real motivation was fear. If fear didn't motivate everyone into action then she'd use shame...or anger. It was fuzzy.

She is fuzzy. Still reeling from her 'journey through the portal. Still wondering if willow was right, but secretly suspecting that it isn't..._she_ isn't enough.

Buffy remembers of all of their faces as she laid into them, looking at her like she was the biggest bitch on the planet. And she was, right then. She had to be. But they don't understand.

**Kennedy...a little girl with a big mouth.**

At that thought she smiled a little, remembering all of the times she'd stood, flat footed, challenging Giles in the library over his 'wait and research' methods when all she wanted to do was go out and kick some demon ass.

She thinks of all of them, but she doesn't think about _him_. She can't bring herself to think of what she'd said to Spike...and in front of the others. She'd surprised herself, she was so convincing. But...whatever it took. Right? **Whatever it took.**

And he took it as she knew he would. The pain etched across his face, masked by the anger and incredulity at her words, she saw it and still she held up her front.

"Didn't know I had it in me" she says with no enthusiasm whatsoever.

She draws her knees up under her chin, closes her eyes and decides to take a mental vacation. The stress is beginning to tear her to the quick, and she needs a release, but none is in sight.

Willow's quick lesson in 'meditation-vacations' had taught the slayer how to let go and "float away." If only for a little while. Who knew that one day it would be her only means of escape.

_"It's easy, Buff, you just pick a place or a time when you were happy and you go there. Just close your eyes and go."_

No biggie. She can do this. She closes her eyes and drifts backwards to an evening she'd almost forgotten.

It was the one 'normal' night she and Spike had had in their whole, twisted...whatever it was. Okay, she knew what it was, but she's not fessing up now. Nope.

It was...so not a normal night, actually, but it's what made her...made her not hate him so much. It made her want to know more about him.

_She'd been patrolling and her heart really wasn't in it. After a few lesser-demons unwarily crossed her path, she'd wandered along until she saw him. He was crouched down in the cemetery, not far from his crypt, in front of a little girl. At first, her temper flared and she grasped her stake ready to take off towards them, but something told her to watch for a moment. He was chipped, after all, and they weren't too far away._

_The little girl was crying. She couldn't have been more than 6 years old, the black ringlets of her ponytail bouncing as her tiny shoulders shook with sobs. Buffy stood mesmerized as she watched Spike take out a hankie...a hankie!...and dry the little girl's face. Her caramel cheeks reddened from her emotional state. He was so gentle, Buffy almost forgot whom she was watching._

_He brushed a few wisps of curls out of the little girl's eyes and spoke to her in a voice so soft, Buffy couldn't even hear it as she approached slowly behind him. The little girl seemed to settle down at his words, though, and Buffy even thought she saw a little smile playing on her lips. It faded when the girl saw the slayer approaching behind him and fresh tears began to fall from her chestnut brown eyes._

_"Shhh. 's okay, she's a friend," he reassured her, as Buffy stood next to him. He didn't even look up._

_"She'll help us find your mum, ok?" he said, drying her face again. Buffy wondered if the girl noticed his icy cold hands. She didn't seem to. She was just staring at him, wordlessly pleading, innately trusting that he would help her. She knew what the little girl was seeing, though, in those eyes of his that were like the ocean. That spark of humanity that had somehow managed to survive despite over a century of brutality. The spark that she had always vehemently denied was there, though it was undeniable really...soul or no soul. But Buffy wasn't ready to turn her ideas of right and wrong upside down. It was just the chip._

_She stood there for a few moments before she realized she hadn't said anything to either or them. She smiled at the little girl, hoping to put her at ease. The girl did smile, then. Spike then looked up at Buffy and she noticed the panic in his eyes._

_"We'll find your mother" Buffy said to the girl, though her eyes never left his. He stood up, and taking the girl's hand he started walking._

_An eerie calm seemed to overtake the three of them as they walked through the cemetery. What on earth was a little girl doing in a cemetery alone, Buffy thought to herself, and then asked out loud._

_"She came to find her mother," he said quietly, still staring ahead. He looked at the girl and then to Buffy. She didn't even have to ask, she knew what he was saying. The girl's mother was dead, buried somewhere in this cemetery and the child had come looking for her. Buffy swallowed hard, to stop the tears that threatened. To lose a mother is hard enough when you're 21, but when you're 6...she couldn't even imagine._

_"W-what's your mommy's name, sweetie?" she asked as gingerly as she could._

_"Laura." the child replied, her voice was steady, but small, her head down as she tread through the thick grass._

_"Laura Hughes," Spike added softly. "She's been 'ere two days, apparently." He looked at Buffy. They both knew what they would find. A fresh grave, the earth still soft, still brown. She turned her head and scanned the landscape. Spike did the same, as they walked. The child kept her head down, not daring to look for her mother._

_As the three of them mounted a small hill, Buffy spotted a mound of unsettled earth near a tall cypress tree. She reached out to squeeze Spike's arm and he followed her gaze to the spot. They walked towards it slowly. The girl broke away from Spike's hand and walked ahead. She knelt down in front of a stand that held a photo of a striking woman, perhaps 32, with jet black hair, skin like milk chocolate and old, old eyes. The same eyes as the little girl's. Buffy followed the child to the spot, but Spike held back a bit. When Buffy realized he hadn't approached with them, she turned to look back at him._

_She was shocked to see the tears, the unmistakable expression of grief for this woman he hadn't known. The child knelt in front of the picture and began to speak to it, softly. Buffy placed a reassuring hand on the girl's shoulder and then walked back to Spike. His gaze was fixed on the woman's photo, but it broke as Buffy came into his sightline._

_"Did you know her?" she asked. He nodded no. "Then why..." she felt it wrong to ask, but her curiosity got the better of her. "Why are you..."_

_"She's so young," he interrupted, knowing what she was asking. "To lose her mum...she's too bleedin' young." He looked past Buffy at the girl, his vampiric hearing picking up the strains of her melodic voice as she spoke to her mother about the days since she'd gone away. His tears fell unchecked now. Buffy instinctively reached up to cup his face in her hand and he jumped, as if she'd struck him. He looked at her, as if seeing her for the first time._

_"Buffy" was all he could say. And all she could do was wrap her arms around him and give him comfort, for the first time, she held him to comfort him. She treated him as if he was hurting. As if he could feel. As if he were human._

_At first, he only stood there, arms down, leaning his head on her shoulder, but he slowly wrapped his arms around her tiny waist and silently wept. Buffy couldn't believe that there was so much man in this monster. How many children had he orphaned with his evil, insatiable thirst, over the years? How many widows did he create? Widowers? How many parents had survived their own children because of his blatant disregard for human life? Yet, here he was, soulless and all, weeping for a mother and a child he didn't even know. Perhaps it brought back some distant memory, she thought. But she didn't ask. They stood that way for what seemed like forever, but it was only a few moments._

_He lifted his head and looked again at the child kneeling before her mother's portrait, talking to her as she idly plucked fragile blades of grass from the thick green carpet of the cemetery. He was still looking at the child when Buffy raised her eyes to scan his face. He didn't notice, lost in thought. Buffy wondered where he was. His guard was down. Gone was any trace of the smirking smart-ass she'd come to...tolerate. She could almost see the poet, the way he gazed at the little girl. Her hand, moving of it's own volition, reached up and wiped some of the wetness from his cheek. *So cold,* she thought. So dead._

_Spike looked down at her, finally. The warmth from her hand invaded the chill of his skin. His face was the picture of compassion. She'd never seen anything like that coming from him before. She was...she was moved. Staring into her, he wrinkled his brow a bit. Her eyes drifted up to it and then to his hair, his mouth, and back to his eyes. Her hand never left his face. He looked wounded, like a lost child. She brought his face to hers and kissed him softly on the mouth. His perfect lips that, even chilled with death, were so soft and yielding._

_Breaking the kiss, he stared at her, his eyes confused and questioning. She could almost see the thoughts running through his mind. His focus shifted from the little girl to woman in front of him. She could see the hope, and that's when she realized she'd make a mistake. She'd given him hope. She knew he would cling to it, and she didn't want him to. There was no hope for them. They were...what they were. Nothing more. Not ever. No matter how much she..._

_She turned from him abruptly and she could've sworn she'd heard his breath catch in his throat. *Why does he breathe?* She thought to herself as she turned her gaze towards the little girl._

_"We should take her home," she said softly. "I'm sure someone's really wigging out that she's not home." Buffy reluctantly turned back to look at Spike. She was only momentarily surprised to find that he'd gone. She turned back and walked over to the girl._

_"C'mon, sweetie," she said as she reached out her hand to her. "Let's get you home. I'm sure you can come back and visit your mom again soon." The child looked up at Buffy and reached for her hand. Buffy brushed the grass from the girl's clothing and put on her best smile. They walked slowly towards the main gate of the cemetery._

_"Where do mommies go, when they die?" The girl's voice was a little less steady now. Buffy's heart sank._

_"I think – " she started. "I think they go to heaven." She thought of her mother and fought the dull pain that came with that thought. She realized, suddenly, that they were walking towards the place where they'd laid her own mother down to rest. The girl was silent, perhaps contemplating Buffy's word with a child's ardor. Buffy found it too hard to find words, especially as they approached her mother's plot and she saw the familiar form of Spike kneeling there. The girl slipped away and ran over to him. She placed her hand on his shoulder._

_"Don't cry," she said to him as she patted him. "Your mommy's in heaven too."_

_Spike looked at the child as if she'd slapped him or spat at him. Buffy became uneasy and walked over to them guiding the girl away from him._

_"Spike." He looked up at Buffy and something glassed over his eyes. They were wild and dark._

_"Buffy.." he struggled for unnecessary breath. "Take. Her. Home." With that he took off running, so fast that the breeze from his duster reached her long after she'd lost sight of him._

_"Poor Spike," the little girl said. "He lost his mommy too." Buffy look down at the girl and only then did she notice that she was shivering, her thin sweater not enough of a barrier against the night air. She took the child by the hand and left the cemetery._

_It was fortunate that the little girl, Amanda was the name she announced to, and then correctly spelled for, Buffy was so bright. Her parents had made her commit her address to memory. Buffy felt a great sense of relief when she approached the door of the picturesque home. Every light in the building must have been on, it was so bright, and she could see people milling about inside. She knelt down in front of Amanda._

_"Well, looks like home," she said smiling into the girl's eyes. Amanda wrapped her tiny arms around Buffy's neck and hugged her tight. No fear in her whatsoever, the sadness gone._

_"Your mommy's in heaven too, Buffy," Amanda said as she pulled away. Buffy was too stunned to respond, the shock of her sadness too much for the moment. She flashed a thin smile at the girl and quickly rang the doorbell. A man came to the door, tall, thin, average build. His small features in stark contrast to the shock of curly black hair that sprouted from his head. Hair like Amanda's. He was clutching the phone to his ear._

_"Yes?" He said to Buffy, his courtesy strained by his recent loss and the worry for his daughter. Buffy stared at him open-mouthed for a moment and then looked down at Amanda's smiling face. The man's gaze followed Buffy's and he dropped to his knees in front of the girl, clutching her to him a little too tightly. The girl's small voice complained._

_"Oh...GOD...GOD GOD GOD!!!" he chanted. "Amanda!" He released her long enough to look her over and then grabbed her to him again. His fears were released in a torrent of tears and incomprehensible words as he lifted his daughter and stood before Buffy. Voices from inside came closer as other family members came to the door. Exclamations of relief were all around as hands reached over the father's shoulder to touch the child. Buffy stood an uncomfortable spectator to the reunion. _

_A family. A *big* family. She wanted to smile, it didn't come._

_Amanda turned her head to her, fighting the sleep from her eyes._

_She smiled, and then Buffy smiled back._

_"Thank you," the father said to Buffy. "Thank you so very much, you don't know...you have no idea..." His words faltered as he clutched the child closer._

_"She wanted to see her mother," Buffy said to him quietly, embarrassed by the gratitude in his eyes. He nodded in understanding. Buffy raised her hand and bid a small wave to Amanda. She smiled at the father and turned to leave._

_"Bye bye Buffy," the child's voice rang like a bell in her ears. She turned back._

_"Bye Amanda" She walked quickly away. Her legs carried back to the cemetery, without any thought at all. She found herself in front of the crypt. She wasn't sure what to expect, or whether he'd be there, but she was, what...worried? The door was open slightly, so she slipped in._

_"I knew you'd get her home all safe like," the voice came out of the darkness._

_"Spike?" she tiptoed in. "What's going on with you?" She called upon her spidey senses to help her find him in the black of the room. She caught the faint glimmer of something pearl-like. She peered and moved in that direction. Slowly she realized that they were teeth. Spike's teeth and that he was smiling._

_"Spike." She said again, this time there was a touch of annoyance in her voice that she hadn't meant at all. "What's up?"_

_"Nothin' pet," his voice was low. "Sorry if I frightened you." The room filled with shadows as he took out his lighter and lit a few candles. "Better?"_

_"Better," she said, coming down from her guard. She hadn't even noticed that she'd been on guard since she'd entered. She studied him, as she slowly approached and stood before him. He looked calmer, better than before. **More like...Spike.** He stared into her, as if reading her thoughts._

_"I'm all better now, luv," he said smiling broadly, but there was a sadness behind it. "Again...sorry 'bout that...'bout earlier. Just bad memories." She smiled despite herself. Knew it couldn't have been anything more. Had to be something other than what it looked like. Still, bad memories mean bad feelings and feeling, well...that just wasn't possible was it? Was it?_

_"Well, if you need to talk," did those words actually come out of her mouth?_

_He laughed softly at the invitation._

_"S' alright, pet," he grinned. "Wouldn't want to shatter your perception of the 'big bad.'" He smirked. Yeah, he was back to himself. She didn't have the courage to ask him what was really going on, so she walked over and sat beside him on the cold stone._

_"That was a good thing, you did." He looked at her quizzically._

_"Come again?"_

_"The little girl...staying with her. Looking out for her. Not biting her?"_

_He laughed again. "Sod off."_

_"I mean it. That was...a good."_

_He ducked his head and nudged her with his shoulder. "Yeah, just don't let it get out. I got a rep to protect."_

_She laughed out loud._

_They sat that way for a while, side by side, both lost in thoughts neither wanted to share. Or perhaps they'd both wanted to share but weren't aware of it. Either way, Spike had broken the silence by hopping off of the stone slab and turning on the television._

_"Anything on?" Buffy half-heartedly inquired._

_"Nope. Not a bloody thing" he uttered in mock-disgust._

_"Figures," she replied. They both smiled. She tried to remember when she'd ever seen him genuinely laugh. She somehow felt a pang of pride that she'd been the cause of uplifting his mood._

_"Wanna patrol?" she nudged him a bit._

_"Nah," he stretched. "Not up for the ole rough an' tumble tonight, luv." She turned to him with a perfect expression of false disbelief on her face._

_"You?" she implied suggestively._

_"Well..." he countered. "If you're offerin'" He jumped up and extended his hand to her. She took it and hopped down. However, instead of jumping into one of the brutal mating rituals that often encompassed their nightly escapades, they just settled onto the couch and Buffy allowed Spike to wrap his arms around her. They watched television for a while. Spike smelled Buffy's hair, something he did often when he'd thought she was asleep._

_"It is Vanilla," she said to him, causing him to start a little at being caught._

_"Thought so," he said as he resumed. "So, you're not always asleep then?" She shook her head._

_"Not usually." She turned to look at him and there it was...the spark. Contact. It was...it was overwhelming! Buffy felt herself gazing into those eyes again...my God had anything ever been so blue...and she shifted uncomfortably in his embrace, suddenly feeling confined._

_"Slayer?" He reluctantly released her and watched as she prepared to go._

_"It's late," she argued pitifully. "I have to get Dawn up for school in the morning."_

_"Right," he replied sullenly, defeated, sinking back into the couch._

_Buffy turned to go but stopped; her back to him. She was frozen for a moment, and he could see her shoulders rising and falling with uneven breaths. He heard her heartbeat racing. _

_"Spike," she breathed his name._

_She didn't have to say anymore, he rose from the couch and spun her around, hands brushing through her hair, lips brushing across her mouth. No, it wasn't the brutal mating ritual that had come to be their routine, it was something...she didn't know...something-_

TBC


	3. Friends

Friends

**Different.** Spike thinks. "I dunno...better," he tells Clem as they lean against the bar. "I mean, we're not together anymore, not that we ever really were...but we're...closer."

"Oh yeah," Clem chimes in. "I think I get ya, Spike." He smiles, sighing contentedly. "It's wonderful isn't it, when two people are in love?"

"In love?" Spike looks at Clem as if his skin has straightened out. "Who said anything about being in love?" He stares at the half-empty bottle of Jack in front of him. Clem waits patiently. "Ok, yah _I'm_ in love. S' never gonna change, is it?" He takes a swig and offers some to his floppy-eared friend, who shakes his head. "The girl...I hurt 'er too much, mate," he says softly. "S' never gonna be more than what it is. We're...friends now."

***

"We're...friends, Giles," Buffy says, twirling an unfortunate piece of thread torn from her top between her fingers. On the other end of the phone, Giles is pacing back and forth, annoyed to find himself failing, once more, to form an irrefutable argument for his case against Spike. There is a long, tortured pause and Buffy swears she can hear him remove his glasses and pinch the bridge of his nose.

"Buffy..." he begins, still searching for the words. "I-I think you and I both know that i-it's more...than, uh, than that." He begins pacing again. He feels completely useless 5,000 miles away. Yes, he's found what he's come for: a way to de-trigger Spike and release him from the conditioning of the First. But what is to happen now? Will that all-too-necessary act push Buffy and Spike closer together with a false sense of safety? Spike isn't safe with a chip or without one. With a soul or without one, he is a killer: one with a dangerous obsession with his slayer.

But Buffy isn't really his slayer, anymore, is she? And he doesn't entirely know what to believe concerning Spike's _feelings_. He also isn't entirely sure he cares.

Ripper wants him gone.

But this is the way, with Buffy. She always lets her feelings prevent her from what must be done for the greater good. **She is unable to remove Spike from the equation. Just as she had been unable to remove Ben, which is why-** His thoughts trail off. **If it were up to Ripper, Spike would be...no more.**

He takes a deep breath and releases it slowly, noting a tightness in his chest that he'd been unaware of. He realizes, suddenly, that she hasn't responded to his last statement. He rather hopes that she will contradict him, just this once. Her silence speaks volumes that he doesn't wish to hear.

"Buffy?", she doesn't respond. "Look, I...er..._deep sigh_...Buffy," he settles onto one of his Queen Anne chairs and into his argument. "I know that you sense the change in him." Giles hears the slayer shift on the other end of the phone, no doubt clenching and unclenching her fists without even knowing it. "We all do, but...but it doesn't change history, Buffy. It only creates more possibilities for...for the future." As soon as he's uttered the words he knows that she will use them against him, which she does.

"I **know** that, Giles," she snaps. "I'm not expecting any miracles, here, but I know what Spike has been through...w-what he's going through and what he's done to redeem himself to us. Not just to me," she adds before he could protest. "He's done these things for all of us. He wants to be...forgiven." Giles can hear her jaw set in her determination. "And," she continued, "I intend to give him the opportunity to be forgiven and to be the man I think he can be...the one he wants to be. 

"He doesn't expect us to forget, b-but to forgive, the way we've forgiven Willow." At that Giles springs up from the chair, toppling it. He feels the anger inside of his stomach churn and travel up his spine until it reaches his scalp where his hair follicles are standing erect.

"Don't you **dare** place that...thing's...vulgar atrocities alongside what Willow experienced last year!" Giles hisses, his voice low in his rage.

Buffy is startled at the heat emanating from the words. She can't even imagine the look on his face. She's never heard him sound so angry before and is eminently grateful for the miles between them.

Giles regains his momentary loss of control before he continues. "That was **quite** different, Buffy. And I shouldn't need to point that out to you," he finishes, righting the chair and sits down for emphasis, though no one is there to witness the punctuation.

"Yes of course I know that," she responds, her own anger threatening to peek through her words when all she wants is to calm him down and make him see reason. "I also know that my world changed completely because of what happened with Willow," she admits plainly. "Just as it is changing because of what has...*is* happening with Spike." Giles feels his heart stop for a moment. He is afraid for her to continue, but she does.

"He. Loves. Me." she begins. "And the thing is, h-he's loved me for a long time now," she pauses to think about the implications of what she's saying. As if anticipating his response, she counters.

"It doesn't matter whether I return the feelings or not, he has loved me through it all," she stops to let her next phrase land on fresh ears. "And it began **before** he had a soul."

Giles makes a sound of disbelief, but doesn't respond. He knows what she's saying, but she can't mean it...can't understand the _unbelievable_ implications...the ripple effect that a revelation like that would have on the order of things. Knowing the way her watcher's mind works, Buffy changes her tone slightly.

"Giles," she sighs. "I didn't believe him, not before. I mean, how could I? Everything I'd known, everything you'd taught me told me that you cannot love without a soul. You can't feel anything without a soul, right?" her question was rhetorical, and he didn't bother to answer. She keeps speaking, mostly for herself, reasoning it out.

"Last year...there was so much wrong about the whole thing, yeah, but it's undeniable when I look back, Giles. Why did he stick around to protect Dawn after I was...gone? You yourself said he was great with her. You said he was in mourning. How could he be if he didn't feel the loss? Why did he take the physical and verbal abuse from us...from me...and still come back? And why did he save every one of us time and time again and fight by our sides? Because of some sick, twisted obsession? Some insane addiction to pain? I used to think so, yeah. But now..." she feels a twinge of guilt when she bitterly recalls the night outside of the police station when he'd tried to stop her from ruining her life.

_"You're beneath me."_

Giles sits on the other end of the phone in stunned silence. He really has no words, because he is afraid that she is right about a lot of what she is saying. Still, he can't allow himself to be swayed from his convictions. Spike has to go. Period. End of story. He would allow Buffy her last few days with Spike, and then he would confront Spike and ask him to leave...for Buffy's sake. If she is right, and Spike has truly changed, how could he refuse?

Buffy doesn't mistake Giles' silence for agreement. She knows her watcher too well. She knows he would rather finish his argument face to face. He is well aware of his power over her, his parental privilege. She takes the opportunity to build a stronger case. 

"When...when mom," she hears his breathing change. "When she…" She can't say the words. "Spike came to me. He came to kill me, shotgun and all." Giles grunts, but she ignores it. "I don't think he would have, even then, but..." she wonders if he would have been able to do it, or more importantly, if she would have fought against it.

"He showed up wanting to kill me. I saw him as he approached, but I didn't let him know. I don't think I cared."

"Oh God, Buf-," Giles tries to interrupt her.

"You don't understand," she stops him from continuing. "I felt so...lost, Giles. I didn't want to be strong Buffy or reliable Buffy or slayer Buffy. I needed to be the-girl-that-someone-would-comfort Buffy. I wanted to cry and scream and tear my hair out. I was numb and frightened at the same time, Giles," she wipes the tear forming in the corner of her eye.

"Spike saw me, sitting on the steps, wrapped up in my grief, and he stopped whatever it was he was planning to do. He came over and sat down with me and...he...h-he _comforted me, Giles. He gave me comfort without asking questions about what was next or how I was going to handle it. He was just _there_ for me. _

"He's always there for me, even now. And I've never..." her voice brakes. "I've never given him the time of day when it didn't suit my needs. I'm disgusted with myself when I think of last year," she says, again more to herself than to him. "I don't know how he took it."

_Punch. Crunch of bone somewhere in his mid-section. Kick as he fell to the ground. Kick. Kick. Kick. The red blood seeping into his blue eyes as she spat those hateful words at him._

_"You're beneath me."_

Buffy shudders as the memories pour in. She has an overwhelming desire to not be on the phone, to find Spike and to tell him how sorry she is. But she can't do that, can she? Not right now. Not just yet. Giles exhales slowly on the other end. She's almost forgotten he was there.

"I'll..I'll be back shortly, Buffy," he says, clearing his throat as he concludes that he's lost this particular battle. "We'll, uh, continue this then." She doesn't say anything, just nods and hangs up the phone. It's only then that she realizes she isn't alone in the room.

"Oh, hey Dawnie," she says a little too cheerily. Dawn is standing in the doorframe, arms crossed, a curious expression on her face. Buffy hangs up the phone, her back to her younger sibling.

"When Spike said 'I did it for you' earlier...downstairs," Dawn had been turning the words over and over in her mind. She sees Buffy stiffen, waiting for the inevitable question. "What did he mean? He did 'what' for you?"

"Dawn," Buffy **really** doesn't want to have this conversation right now. She turns to face the icy blue eyes of the young woman.

"Was it his soul?" Dawn's gaze never brakes away from her sister. Buffy can sense the storm within her, the words between her words. Still, she can't bring herself to answer.

"Do you love him?" Dawn asks point blank, her face unchanged. Buffy starts to give her standard-issue response, but she catches herself and answers after a long sigh, settling on the edge of the bed.

"Dawn...I don't know." Buffy hopes that would be a good enough answer. She pats the space next to her in invitation.

"Yes you do, Buffy." Dawns adult anger shakes her adolescent frame. " You know."

The teenager turns and walks away.

Ok, so this story is taking its own twists and turns. Please r/r. I'm a fledgling! :]

Oh and….

TBC


	4. Secret Journey

Secret Journey

Spike's been drinking for hours, but isn't drunk enough for his tastes.

He knows that he shouldn't get too sloshed, what with the First back in the mix, so he leaves Clem at Willy's happily launching himself into another boring argument about the realism of Beverly Hills 90210.

Spike couldn't bring himself to comment on that tripe. He knows exactly what is in that zip code: **lots and lots of soddin silicone**. He spits in disgust as he remembered biting down into some juicy model only to find out she wasn't _naturally_ juicy.

"Bleedin' Barbie doll," he mutters, recalling the bleached blonde with the plastic body parts.

**Wasn't even a real blonde. Well…right…neither am I. **

He walks, no, strides back to Revello drive with a new mission in mind. He is going to show Buffy what she claimed she wanted: the Big Bad...back for the party. "Yeah," he says, pounding his fist on his chest as he rounds the corner to the back of her house. He doesn't realize it, but he's practicing his smirk. He catches himself, and starts to laugh, when he sees her in the window of her room. He comes to an abrupt halt, as he stares up at her.

**So bloody beautiful.**

She is looking out the window just as he approaches. She sees him stop and their eyes lock through the darkness. The air stirs with palpable electricity, as a moment passes between them. Spike walks over towards the back porch and soon Buffy emerges from the back door. The kitchen is full of SITs and she has to answer a few house-related questions before slipping out. She obviously doesn't want them to see whom she is meeting, Spike snorts to himself.

"Hey," she says, thinking how lame that sounds, as she closes the door behind her.

"Hey yourself," he responds, trying hard to put as much disinterest in his voice as possible.

"So..." she sits down on the step.

"What." He leans against the tree and takes out a cigarette. Buffy can't remember the last time she'd seen him smoke one.

"Where'd you go?" she asks. **Innocent enough question.**

"Out." His short answer should have been expected, but she feels slightly annoyed.

"O...k" she wants to find a way to break the defensive barrier he's wearing around him like a shield. She looks up at him and then over to the area where the SITs had been training earlier. Make-shift weapons lie scattered about the browning grass. **So much for being all discipline-y and cleaning up after yourselves.**

"What...you want specifics?" he looks up at her, taking a long, slow drag from the cigarette before exhaling just a slowly, twisting his lips to allow the smoke to curl about his head like a crown. She turns her head back towards him and shakes it.

Spike puts his disinterested smirk into practice. **Not much to tell, really. Killed something for you. Saved your ass again. Got pissed.**

"No...I was just...um...curious," she looks away again, suddenly uncomfortable being the object of his disaffection. She brings her arms up around herself, noticing a bite in the night air. Instinctively, Spike steps away from the tree, puts the cigarette between his lips, and slips out of the duster, offering it to her.

"Thought maybe you and, er, Principal Demon Hunter had gone patrolling." **Bloody wanker staring ME_ down_.__**

Buffy stares at him for a moment, her temper trigger itching. **That's what this is about, geez!**

It takes her a moment to realize that he's offering the coat to her because of the cold. She reaches out and takes it, smiling thinly and nodding her head to thank him. 

"Nope. Tired." She is telling the truth. She's beyond tired.

When the coat leaves his fingers, Spike feels his resolve soften. He watches the slayer pull it around her shoulders. She looks so small and fragile, he wants nothing more than to hold her and...

"Spike...I was thinking," she begins. He's grateful for the interruption. He'd promised himself that he would never hope for that again.

"Yeah?," he replies a little too brightly.

"Yeah," she says, almost inaudibly. "It's not right. It hasn't been right in a long...well...ever, really." Buffy laughs a dry, bitter laugh.

Spike's determination to be obstinate with her dissipates as he tries to understand what she means. He looks down at the cigarette in his white fingers and drops it to a patch of dirt, grinding it out. He approaches the slayer and sits beside her, at a safe distance. He stares out into the same space she'd been boring a hole through.

"What are you on about?" The words come out more gentle than he'd wanted them to, but there is no use for pretense. It's quite obvious that she wants to tell him something. The need for it hangs about her like the coat draped around her shoulders.

Buffy either doesn't notice his attempt at detachment, or just doesn't acknowledge it.

"Buffy?" He turns toward her a bit. "Luv?"

"I-I'm sorry, Spike." Buffy says it to the air, but he hears her.

"For?" He cocks his head and lets the word hang there for her to make the choice. She can tell him what she is sorry for, or she can back down. He'll let her have her way again.

"Everything." It is a simple statement, but he chooses to misunderstand it.

"You were right to say those things, pet," he says. Turning from her he looks down and picks a splinter from the step below him, toying with it. "We all need to get our act together. Sometimes you need the harsh words."

"No," she says quietly, looking up at the night sky. The stars were out. She remembers loving nights like this for patrol. She would hurry through the kills just so she'd have time to sit on a bench and look at the sky. There were fewer street lamps in the cemetery, less light pollution to cloud your view.

He turns to her, fully this time, staring at her trying to bring her back from wherever she is...trying to will the words out of her. He wants her to pour it all out there in the open, so that there would be no more delusion, no more false hope. Whenever she spoke half-truths, it left doubt. And where there was doubt, there was hope, and hope brought with it pain, and self-loathing.

Finally she turns to him, resting her head back against the railing. She looks into his eyes. She could still see the blue, even in the shadows.

"Cerulean," she thinks aloud.

"Pardon?" He'd expected her to say something, but this certainly wasn't it. Buffy smiles at the confused wrinkle in his brow. He really is a beautiful man.

**A beautiful...Man.**

"Your eyes," she says, sitting up and closer to him to see them better. "They're cerulean." Spike feels the smile on his lips before he can think to stop it.

"That's a big word, Buffy," he teases. She returns the smile and her eyes drift around his face, his hair. She looks down his body and reaches out to take one of his hands and study it. The skin is impossibly smooth in places, rough and calloused in others. She remarks, internally, on the appropriateness of that fact.

**It's just like him.**

Spike can't read this moment, doesn't know how to react to it. This isn't at all what he expected after tonight. This tenderness. This intimacy. 

He watches her thoughts roll around in her head. She'll speak when she wants to, he thinks to himself. Whatever she has to say can wait. **She's touching me, and sod it all, I am a slave when she does.**

His body screams at him to reach out and touch her hair, but he doesn't feel he has the right. Still, his free hand moves of its own volition. Tentatively reaching out to give her time to protest.

When she doesn't, he reaches around and lifts the hair from her shoulder, letting it fall through his fingers; the silkiness sends a current through his limbs. His body, feeling the familiarity of her closeness, reacts naturally; much to his embarrassment.

She doesn't seem to notice. She continues to study his fingers. She steals a glance at him while he runs his fingers through her hair. **Such rapture from such a small thing:** **the textbook definition of love**.

She's never seen it before, pure love, at least not directed at her. She'd seen it between Willow and Tara. She knows that what she and Angel had was...is...was...amazing. Theirs was a love stronger than anything. Losing him felt like the end of her life, the end of the world. But she'd been very young, and he was her first.

And then there was Riley, whom she never really loved. She knows that now.

And here sits this man that has been through the absolute best and the absolute worst with her and for her and...he is still there. He's sitting here letting her hold his hand, letting her get this close, and not asking why, or for how long, or making any demands or protestations or threats. Buffy studies his unpolished nails, noting that she's never seen them in their natural state; gleaming like mother-of-pearl.

Spike watches her watching him. **What is she doing? Is this her way of saying goodbye? Has she changed her mind and decided to accept my offer to leave town?**

Of course, he would. He never went back on his word, but she had asked him to stay. Perhaps she'd found the closure she needed and was ready for him 'not to be there'.

His hand moves to her forehead and he brushes the hair out of her eyes. It's something he's done so many times before, but now...allowing him to be this close again...he wants to cry. He is utterly lost in her. She is his whole bloody world.

**Bloody poofter**. He smiles sadly.

She notices the smile. She looks up into his eyes again. **Yeah, Cerulean...like twilight. Maybe a little of the poet in him has rubbed off on her. She smiles at the notion.**

The look on his face is truly priceless. His other hand rests on top of hers and her smile fades. He must misunderstand her reaction, because his brow wrinkles again and he goes to move his hand, but she quickly covers it with her free one. She knows he is waiting, patiently, as always.

"I don't really know where to begin," she says truthfully, tears threatening to spill. Spike feels himself relax. She does have something to say, and he is ready to hear all of it, good or bad, and in her own time. No pushing.

"Well," he brushes the back of his fingers against her cheek and gazes with unabashed emotion into her hazel eyes. His smile is slow and warm and full of love.

"I hear the beginning is a good place."


	5. Voices Inside My Head

Author's note: Of course, all belongs to Master Whedon. I am but a poor player begging for crumbs at the foot of his genius.

So, shall I continue this thread? What do you think?

R/R, pretty please.

Enjoy!

Voices Inside My Head

He's listening, every word that she utters washing over him like warm syrup, like the rhythmic, gentle waves of a calm sea. There's no order to her thoughts. They're random and he understands. It's not easy, putting something so intangible into words: the Whys and the Hows.

He's listening to her thoughts spill forth and it's like so much fine wine. He's drunk again just from the sight and the sound of her, but his head is clear and his unbeating heart gets lighter and lighter with each syllable...each smile...each bat of her feathery eyelashes when she looks up at him.

She doesn't hate him.

She's forgiven him.

Can he forgive her. **Of course, luv**. He thinks it, but he doesn't say it because he doesn't want to break the spell of her.

Does he understand what he means to her? **No, tell me.**

More than he realizes.

Does he understand what a journey he's on? **Yes, it's the one to you.**

Perhaps.****

What made him go to Africa?

No, don't answer that. **Don't need to answer, you already know.**

Yes, I do.

_She looks down. _It hurts to think of last year. **I know. I'm sorry.**

She's so sorry for everything. **No need, but _thank you._**

She wishes things could've been different. **They can. They are.**

But she was so confused then. **Was?**

_She smiles, looks up...such beautiful eyes._ Yes, was.

She doesn't think she is anymore. **She knows me so well...knows what I'm thin—**

He stops mid-thought and swallows hard, his Adam's apple dipping impossibly low. He realizes that her lips had stopped moving a while ago. Her voice is inside his head, inside of him.

There's a moment of panic as he recalls his encounters with the First. But the warm fingers tracing circles on the back of his hand do not belong to evil and he eases down from that notion.

The backdoor opens. Xander sticks his head out. He's about to call for Buffy when he sees her and the blonde bloodsucker sitting on the step, knees touching, hands entangled their fingers stroking one another's, silently gazing into each other. He fights down the nausea rising from the pit of his stomach. They don't seem to notice him, so he watches, his anger brewing. He should probably feel guilty for invading Buffy's privacy, but he dismisses it. **It's just Spike.** He thinks to himself.

Xander watches. A little unsure of what's going on, he still doesn't like it. He's been watching them for several minutes and neither of them has uttered a word. Their facial expressions are changing subtly, one reacting to the other, but no words. **Perhaps it's a thrall, like with the Master**, he thinks, and he steps out of the door with the intention of breaking their concentration. At that moment, Spike finally speaks. 

"Wha?" Spike's eyes are wide, tears dancing on the rims. He cocks his head, as if he does not quite understand something.

"I-I said..." Buffy stutters aloud, "I think th-that maybe...I kinda love you too."

TBC


	6. Fragile

Fragile

Spike is about to say...something...when they both hear Xander behind them.

"What!? You......you-you WHAT!?" his face is a kaleidoscope of reds and pinks as he tries to process the information screaming through his brain.

Buffy and Spike's heads both snap around to see the source of the disturbance. Xander's ears are glowing in the yellow light from the kitchen window. Buffy's mouth drops open. Spike looks away in disgust and then his eyes drift back to Buffy, searching her face for a sign of the familiar backpedaling she does whenever they're caught in an intimate moment. He silently notes it absence, as well as the fact that they're still holding hands. He inwardly smiles.

"Buffy," Xander tries to continue, searching for control. "Tell me PLEASE tell me you're kidding and that, PLEASE GOD, this is part of some big plan to trick the First

"O-or that you're under some spell! God!! His hands reach behind him for anything that will support his trembling knees. He finally finds the wall and tries to recover from, what he feels, is an enormous betrayal. **She can't do this to us again, she can't.**

"Xander...", she says, cursing herself for not having found a more private place for her moment with Spike. Buffy knows from the look on Xander's face, that her friend is about to lose it; she stands up, trembling, the duster pooling around her knees. She and Spike let go of each other simultaneously.

Both are suddenly, painfully, aware of the loss of contact yet they don't miss a beat. Spike stands by her side, his hand resting in the small of her back, lending her support. Aware of (and grateful for) the gesture, Buffy tries to think of something to say that won't send Xander over the edge.

"Save it, Buffy." Xander spits out bitterly, before she can form a word. The sting in his voice is a shock to her. His eyes are wide and blacker than their normal chestnut brown. He is gasping for air as if he were struck in the chest.

Spike feels his jaw clenching as the apology forming in the back of his throat morphs into an angry growl, his demon itching to come out and teach the child a lesson in respect. But he knows that this is between the two friends and he backs down.

"I'd better, uh –" Spike looks at Buffy and then sweeps up the duster and climbs the remaining step. He brushes past the whelp as he reaches for the door.

"Where do you think you're going?" Xander steps over to block Spike's path. "You tell me what the hell that was?!" he demands.

"I think it's better if the Slayer tells you," he responds slowly.  His voice is low and calm, but the ire behind it is evident. He stares into the boy, teeth grinding, to let him know that it is only out of respect for Buffy that he hasn't grabbed him by the throat and knocked some sense into him.

Xander wants badly to lay into Spike, but the reaction to his obvious challenge is so...reserved. He loses a bit of his conviction and finds himself acquiescing in the stare-down match and moving out of the way and closer to Buffy. She's looking past him to Spike who nods as he slips into the duster. Something silent passes between them and he disappears inside.

Buffy shifts her gaze to Xander. He is looking at her with an expression she never thought could live on that face. She turns and sits on the step once more, preparing herself for conversation that she wasn't expecting to have so soon, but one that she is prepared for.

TBC


	7. A Different Shade of Gray

A Different Shade of Gray

"Ok, " Buffy sighs. Xander is sitting next to her on the step. His anger has given way to disbelief and he is mumbling to himself, shaking his head to clear it. "Look...Xan." Her voice is calm but firm. "First of all...what the hell and secondly...what gives you the right?" Xander snaps around to look at her. He can't believe she's angry with _him_. **I'm the one that gets to be angry here.**

"What gives me the right?" He glares at her, his mouth hangs open in an 'as-if' expression.

"Yes! What, d'you think that _that_ was okay?"

"I what, questioned your sanity? Too damn bad, 'cause right now, I'm still questioning, Buffy."

"You were eavesdropping!"

"I was – was WHAT?" His nostrils flare and the heat is rising from his neck again.

"Xander, this is my house – MY house and I am entitled to have a private conversation with whomever I choose."

"Ssspike" he hissed, "is NOT a whom." **He's barely a 'what'. **"I don't care if he has a soul, Buffy. He's a killer. Plain and simple. And _you _of all people shouldn't be alone with him. He shouldn't even _be_ here, in this house. He's evil."

"Oh really?" Buffy still can't believe Xander's world could be so black and white. Even after Anya, he has no room for the gray.

"He can't help it, h-h- he's a vampire, Buff...a demon!" Xander doesn't understand why the hell she can't see that.

"A demon."

"Yes, a demon." **Maybe she gets it? Not betting on it.**

"You mean like Anya?" Buffy knows she's hitting below the belt, but she doesn't know how else to get Xander out of this delusion that life is so cut and dry.

"N-no that's different." Whenever anyone reminds him of Anya's past, Xander finds it tough to come up with a plausible defense. "That's not who she is anymore."

"Exactly." Buffy thought her point was well made.

"Don't try to tell me that she and Spike are alike, Buff. I won't sit here and listen to that crap."

"Why is that so hard for you to understand?" Buffy is running out of arguments, but she's determined not to lose her friend.

"Why?" Xander holds out his left hand. "Anya – EX-demon. Ex, get it? And Spike?" He holds out his right hand. "Hmmm...let's see, yep STILL a vampire. Any questions?"

Buffy resists the urge to get up right then and walk away. She can feel Spike on the other side of the backdoor and she wants nothing more than to go to him. Xander has worn her patience thin, but she decides to give it one last try. 

**Go upstairs, babe. I'll meet you there shortly. **_Alright, pet._

She takes Xander's hands into her own and places them on her lap, forcing him to look at her full on.

"Xander." She searches for the right words. "You love Anya...still, right?" He hesitates and then nods slowly. Pain alters his expression a bit, but it doesn't quell the anger and frustration. "Did you love her when you left her at the alter?" At that he tries to pull away, but Buffy carefully uses her slayer strength to keep him there.

"Yes, I did." He answers reluctantly, defeated. "Do you have a point here that doesn't lead to 'I love Spike'"? Buffy squeezes her eyes shut and smiles bitterly.

"No, I don't" she says looking directly at him, her chin raised in determination. Xander does break away from her then and resumes his head shaking. It's not clearing him up, though. She smoothes her hand across his back, trying to soften what she is about to say. He's painfully aware of how much he loves the girl beside him and is relieved to find that she feels the same. He was beginning to think that her friends had become inconsequential.

"I do love him, Xan." His eyes close as he suppresses the urge to shout at her again. "I know you don't understand it. I don't really understand it myself," she says more to herself than to him. "Well, maybe I do." She smiles, but then realizes that Xander doesn't know the man that's upstairs in her room. "He's done a lot for me, Xan."

She reflects on her earlier conversation that took place on these very steps. They had become her confessional.

_I know that it hasn't been easy for you, Spike._

_"Phht...never been one to take the easy way."_

_Oh please, yes you were._

_"Yeah, I was...but not with this. I'd do anything..."_

_I know. You've done everything._

"And we haven't?" Xander looks at her. "Your friends? Y'know, the ones that _really _love you and not for any vicious, self-serving reason?" He is desperate to get through to her, as much she is to get through to him.

"What selfish reason does Spike have for loving me, Xan? What reason could he _possibly _have for saving my life? Dawn's life? Giles? Will's?" She hesitates, exasperated. "Yours, Xan?" He turns his head away, letting out a stunted laugh.

"Mine?" He looks at her for confirmation. He begins to recall the blonde vampire swinging to the rescue a few times, but quickly dismisses it. "When did he ever..."

"More times than I can count, Xander." She smiles because she knows that it's beginning..._beginning..._to seep in: that gray.

TBC


	8. Does Everyone Stare?

Does Everyone Stare

It takes every ounce of strength he can muster to stand inside that door knowing what Buffy is facing outside. Worse than any demon or monster, she is confronting the unmitigated wrath of a friend alone. Spike wants nothing more than to go out there, shake Xander until he understood, and then wrap Buffy up in himself and take her away somewhere quiet and peaceful.

If he notices the SITs all, one by one, distracted from their activities by his presence and his state, he doesn't acknowledge it. He ignores the whispers and the giggling.

Kennedy clears her throat and the girls all look at her. She mouths the words "STOP STARING" and embarrassment leads them all to half-heartedly resume whatever it was that they were doing. Kennedy, of course, continues to stare, as does Willow who has just come into the room.

"What's up?" she whispers into the brunette's silky hair. She plants a quick kiss on her cheek before she crosses behind her and rests her hands on the counter.

"Dunno." Kennedy quickly and quietly replied, her eyes never leaving the vampire. Spike is staring at the ceiling, mumbling something to himself. "Maybe he's gone all wacko again."

Willow starts to chuckle at Kennedy's comment, but there is something about the way Spike is behaving that perplexes her. He seems preoccupied with whatever is on the other side of the door. He turns to face it, his hand toying briefly with the knob, and then he stops and curses under his breath, banging his head on the wall with a loud thump. She witnesses this vignette several times.

All of the other eyes in the room are trying not to look at him openly, but their all aware of his every movement, their natural slayer instincts kicking-in...well, instinctively. Willow, continuing her observation of the blonde, gives Kennedy's hand a quick squeeze and then moves around the other side of the counter to the window. She parts the curtain slightly and peers outside. She sees two figures on the steps: Buffy and Xander. Willow moves closer to Spike, her confusion and curiosity growing proportionally.

"H-Hey, Spikey" she tries to sound nonchalant, it comes out perky. "How's it, uh, hangin'?"

Spike rolls his head toward her. She sees a mixture of anger, desperation, and fear and (...love?) in his eyes. She's never noticed before that they were blue.

"Hey Red." His voice is like gravel. Spike pulls himself up and stands facing the door once again, looking at it as if it were made of shit. "Their having a _talk_," he says, gesturing through the door to the figures on the steps that he can't see, but that he could feel.

He _feels Buffy's heart rate rise and fall like the tides. He smells the sweat that must be shining on Xander's upper lip as he listens to Buffy's explanation. What he can't hear is what she is saying. There is too much bloody noise in the kitchen: chattering girls and clanging dishes. He wants to scream._

**And Red's standing here, looking so concerned.** He suddenly feels a little ashamed at having been so short in his words. He smiles thinly and watches the relief unfurl her knit eyebrows.

"Is it serious?" she asks innocently. He wants to laugh out loud, but an alternate meaning to her question shapes itself in his mind. **Is it...serious.**

"I dunno," he answers after a moment. "I hope so." He smiles at her. Willow's brows are newly woven and she decides to give up on deciphering the riddles. She walks back over to Kennedy and sits on a stool determined to wait for less cryptic answers from Buffy and Xander. Spike resumes his silent loathing for the door standing between finally knowing and not knowing.

_Go upstairs, babe. I'll meet you there shortly._ **Alright, pet.**

Spike wonders if he'd just imagined that little exchange. Buffy calling him 'babe'? Perhaps he'd imagined their whole conversation outside. He reaches up and brushes the tips of his fingers down the door, letting out a sigh.

He turns to walk out of the kitchen, trying to avoid eye contact with anyone, but he feels compelled to look at Willow. Not to his surprise, she's staring right at him. Her countenance is, in a word, disconcerting. He quickly exits and heads to Buffy's room. He can feel Willow's eyes on his back as he mounts the stairs. Her voice stops him.

"What's happening here, Spike?" she says, loud enough for him to hear, but not for anyone else to pick up. He squeezes the railing and then turns to look her in the eye, slightly afraid of what he'll find there.

"I told you," he tries to sound completely calm, "they're talking."

"About what?" She's not letting this go. Something has Spike bristling. She can feel the storm inside of him and she can hear...she can hear...

"Buffy," Spike says as the Slayer approaches behind Willow. He fails to mask the relief in his voice or in his body language. Willow turns to her friend and immediately notices the redness of her eyes.

"Oh hey, Buff –"  **perhaps**** light and friendly is the way**. "What's shakin?" **What's shakin? What's hangin? I sound as if I'm channeling Disco Stu.**

"Will." Buffy manages a smile before she allows herself to look at Spike. Willow knows that look. She'd seen it before. When Angel was around, but _before_ things went south. Spike turns and continues up the steps and out of sight. Buffy then refocuses on Willow.

"I think Xander may need someone right now," she says with a twinge of something...guilt perhaps...in her voice.

"Uh, ok. Buffy –" Willow is going to get to the bottom of this one way...or another. "What's going on? You're all weepy – don't think I didn't notice – Spike's mopey and, well, downright weirding everyone out. You and Xander have some sorta fight? 'Cause you know he loves ya and-"

"I know he does," Buffy interrupts. "I know a-and he wants what's best for me, for everyone. The problem is, Will" she continued, leaning on the wall, suddenly fatigued. "He doesn't _know _what's best...not even for himself.

Willow gets the full meaning behind Buffy's words. No holding back there. Xander's never been a cheerleader in the Spike camp, nor was he Angel's for that matter.

"Oh." is all Willow can muster.

"Yeah, oh." Buffy agrees. "Lots of 'Oh' to go around." Willow sits on the step, eye level with Buffy, waiting for more. Buffy takes a deep breath.

"Will..." Buffy isn't sure if she is ready for another round of kick-the-Spike-and-Buffy, but Willow deserves an explanation. She's just praying that Giles didn't decide to take the Concorde and is about to walk through the door just as she's finishing up. That would really be...

"I'm listening, Buff." Willow says to rouse her friend back to the present. She gives her a reassuring smile and takes her hand.

"Thanks," Buffy finally smiles and exhales.

TBC


	9. Voices Inside My Head, Pt 2

Voices Inside My Head, Part 2 

Spike feels...remarkably calm as he sits on Buffy's bed in the dark, anticipating the continuation of their earlier _conversation._

**She's inside of me.** He thinks. **My heart.**** My soul. And now my bloody mind. **He laughs and shakes his head. Buffy always amazes him. Without thinking, he searches his duster pocket for cigarettes.

"Right, mate," he corrects himself. "Smoke in her room...that'll win 'er back."

He feels something else in his pockets and pulls out the contents. It's a CD, a soundtrack from a movie that he loves: Brimstone and Treacle. "Cor, I wondered where you'd gotten off too, luv." He caresses the disk, and opens it.

Standing up, he crosses the room to the portable stereo and flips open the player's lid. "Ugh...Limp Bizkit?" he whispers in disgust, eyeing the disk already inside. "Slayer, please." He grabs the CD as if it was made of something loathsome and tosses the offensive object onto the floor, popping in his disk. He fumbles with the buttons and pushes play. 

He'd been in this room countless times, but rarely alone. He looks at the photos of Buffy as a little girl. He smiles. **I would've loved to watch her grow. **The music starts and memories suddenly flood the vampire's mind.

_Oh when the role is called up yonder,_

_When the role is called up yonder_

_Oh when the role is called up yonder,_

_When the role is called up yonder I'll be there._

Children's voices. Spike uncomfortably remembers his "Parish" phase, as Angelus had called it. **William the bloody at his very bloody best.** He is overwhelmed as the faces come back, one by one. Then dozens of impassioned Spanish Catholics he'd terrorized one fateful night so long ago. He squeezes his eyes shut and clenches his fists against the black cloud that is descending upon his mind. **Oh God, I can't. I can't, not now. Please.**

He thinks of Buffy smiling up at him. The images recede. He gasps for a breath that he doesn't need to take. He thinks to turn the CD off, but the music has changed. He doesn't want to be defeated or weak, so he locks his jaw and listens. Nothing but music, no images come. All he needs is Buffy.

**Just the thought of her.**** Golden like sunshine. Fierce and beautiful. Strong. Gentle. A force of nature. I need her more than the blood.**

He begins to silently weep.

He wipes angrily at his tears and forces them to cease.

He walks over to the window, idly singing along with the man on the CD.

He stands and he waits.

TBC


	10. I Burn For You

Author's Note: Song 'I Burn For You' Lyrics and Music by Sting, can be found on the Brimstone and Treacle soundtrack as well as on "Bring on the Night" by Sting.

I Burn For You

There are strains of music coming from her door as she approaches. Not something she recognizes. "Make yourself at home , Spike." Buffy smiles to herself as she tentatively puts her hand on the doorknob. She hears the music playing but there's another sound that makes her pause...Spike's voice. Buffy takes a deep breath and opens the door. It's dark. She steps inside and closes it behind her. She locks and then leans against it, facing him.

Spike's back is to her. The song fades out and he turns around. He can see her plainly in the light filtering in from outside. She sees him in shadow catching glimpses of his porcelain profile, his perfect mouth, as he turns to her. She almost thinks she sees blue fire in his eyes. A low moaning and rhythmic bass is coming from the speakers. Buffy doesn't recognize the song. She starts to make a sarcastic comment about his antiquated taste in music, when he begins to sing again. Spike's voice is low and smoky, matching the singer's almost perfectly, but with his own _flavor_.

_Now that I have found you_

_In the cool of your evening smile_ **He smiles. She smiles coyly, eyes blushing.**

_The shade of your parasol_

_And your love flows through me _**She listens intently, her smile fading.**

_Though I drink at your pool _**He cocks his head to the side, eyes narrowing.**

_I burn for you, I burn for _****

_You and I are lovers_ **Buffy feels her entire body blush.**

_When night time folds around our bed _****

_In peace we sleep entwined _**He slowly crosses the room towards her.**

_And your love flows through me _****

_Though an ocean soothes my head _**She closes her eyes, her breath uneven.**

_I burn for you, I burn for _

_Stars will fall from dark skies_** She hears him in her head.**

_As ancient rocks are turning_

_Quiet fills the room _**He stops a few inches from her, his lips parted.**

_And your love flows through me _**He runs his hand lightly across her collarbone.**

_Though I lie here so still_** Her eyes pop open and she shivers.**

_I burn for you, _

_I burn for you _

_I burn..._

The heat between them is molten. Not Dru nor Angel, Cecily nor Riley: no one from before exists to them now as anything other than figures from the past. 

They're so close now that Spike momentarily mistakes her heartbeat for his own, as if she had the power to restore him to life. His hands hang at his side, as he counts the variations of green and gold in her eyes. He is afraid to touch her again for fear that he may drop to his knees and beg her to take him back. Promise anything to hold her, to kiss her, just once more.

He stands still before her. Even with the admission outside, he's not certain that she wants more than what they have: a friendship. He doesn't want to risk this newfound closeness. He tries to convince himself that he can live with being just her friend.

Buffy is adrift in the sea of blue staring into her and genuinely fears that she may drown. The emotions emanating from Spike are palpable. She can feel the love he has for her penetrating every fiber of her being. She can also sense his confusion at her words earlier. It breaks her heart a little, for as drawn as she is to him, she doesn't know if she'll ever be able to feel that deeply for him...or for anyone...ever again.

But here he is, as ever, following her lead. Why does she hesitate? She knows she loves him. She's told her closest friends as much, and yet even they were left scratching their heads when she couldn't say to what extent. The fact is that no one, not even Angel, has ever loved her as much as Spike. He loved her before he even realized it. She'd known it long before she'd ever admitted the possibility. No soul, no love? Bull. Buffy had known plenty of soul-having humans that were completely incapable of love.

Spike realizes with a shock that he is no longer locked into the slayer's thoughts. **She's blocking me out ...retreating. So soon.** **S' too soon.** He lets out an audible sigh and it stirs Buffy out of her trance.

She becomes aware of him, presently, and notes the sadness creeping into him, replacing the rapture. She's not ready to let go so she gently presses her lips to his and withdraws when he barely responds. He gives her a small smile, expecting her to say that she is tired and wants to turn in.

"You'd think we'd be able to talk by now," she says, quietly smiling. "It's always been hard for me...being alone with you." She searches his face for indications of his mood. He gives none. **She's afraid, like before in the bathroom. **_Spike, no!_

"Oh yeah?" he replies, his heart sinking. He tries to prepare for the pain he knows is coming.

"Yeah."

"Why's that, pet?" **Please don't say it, not yet.**

"Because I've never known whether to kiss you or to kill you."

"You could do both at once." He inadvertently admits.

Buffy winces at the implication, but recovers quickly. "I could never kill you, not now."

"What if you had to?" He backs up a bit to study her physical response to his question, a glimmer of hope creeping back into his soul, but he squelches it. He is thinking of the First and the trigger. He's been wondering, lately, if Giles had been right and the Slayer's feelings were clouding her judgment: her feelings for him specifically.

"If it meant saving the world?"

He nods.

"I would." She says plainly. "And it would be the end of me."

Spike's confused, again, at her response. He tries to find bravado behind her words or behind her eyes and there is none. She's telling him the truth. The first part hurts, but he is proud. The second part hurts, and he is frightened.

As if guessing his interpretation, Buffy continues.

"I wouldn't do anything stupid." She says, her voice almost a whisper. Spike feels enormous relief. "I'd want to, b-but I wouldn't."

"Why, silly girl, do you say such things?"

"Because-," she caresses his face between her hands, wiping the drying tears. "I don't want to live where you don't."

Spike, unable to stand it anymore, captures the slayer's mouth and kisses her gently. He doesn't want to appear forceful, but his craving for her is quite literally driving him insane. She allows him in, deepening the kiss and slips her arms around his neck. Spike almost begins to cry as his unbeating heart's desire is unfolding. Theirs is not a kiss of rage and passion; it is a kiss of loving and longing. It is slow and languorous. He slides his hands around to her back, pressing her closer to him. She cannot get close enough. One hand slides up into her hair as he cradles her head. Buffy's fingertips are massaging the nape of Spike's neck. They are devouring one another.

Their tongues dance and it tells a story: an incomplete one. But the taste is so sweet that it's intoxicating to the both of them.

After a while, the kiss becomes less intense and more soothing. They stroke and caress each other, playfully but carefully. Buffy actually stands on the top of Spike's boots. They stop, foreheads resting against each other, breathing heavily.

"Why do you breathe?" Buffy's always wanted to ask.

"I never learned to stop."

"When you sleep you stop. I always found it...a little scary."

"Oh, sorry luv."

"Don't be. You can't help it."

"I'm dead."

"Not where it counts," she places a hand on his chest. "In here."

Spike smiles. "You watched me sleep?"

Buffy smiles. "Yeah." It's a whisper.

Spike's not sure why, but everything in him is telling him to leave _right now_.

He lets go of her suddenly. She stumbles backwards.

"Spike?"

He turns from her, hands running through his hair. "I...I should go."

Confused, Buffy tries to turn him around. He won't budge and she doesn't force it. "Go...wh-why? Is something...Did I do something?" At that, Spike does turn and the look in his eyes finally does break her heart. _He is leaving._

"Why?" She doesn't want him to tell her because she knows the answer: she was not worth staying for. They all leave. Everyone leaves.

TBC


	11. Darkness

Author's note: It's amazing how quickly some of you have turned against Spike here. Have faith in me people. I have faith in Joss. I want to believe what I'm hearing through the grapevine. Call me silly. :] 

Enjoy!

Darkness 

**I don't think I can do this.**

Spike is in the eye of a storm. When he takes his hands away from his face, he can see her. She is standing on a precipice. In front of her is he. Behind her is the battle that is to come. He doesn't know which is worse.

"Buffy, I-" he's desperate to find the words. He is afraid, truly, horribly afraid for the first time in his existence. He doesn't want to leave, but everything within him demands that he does. He must leave and not bring her anymore harm. Never again. This isn't safe. **I'm not safe.**

Buffy is on the verge of screaming. **Why, WHY do they leave? Everyone leaves. Mom, Angel, Riley…wh-what is so wrong about me that they-**

"S'not safe…you…me. S'not…can't do it."He mumbles, his head hanging low.

Buffy is awash in a river of salty tears. She cannot hear him; she is consumed by her own thoughts. **Leaving. Leaving. Leaving.**

Spike' s heart, which was full of joy a moment ago, is now a lead weight on his soul. It is breaking, for the last and final time. He must leave the only thing he's ever loved to keep her safe. Her and his little one. But when he looks up at her, he doesn't see the sadness he expected, he sees…he sees…

"Buffy…love…Buffy…breathe." Her sobs are shaking her frame and she is gasping for breath. Instinctively Spike closes the gap between them and takes her in his arms. He wraps himself around her, stroking her hair and whispering in her ear. "Breathe, baby…PLEASE…you're scarin' me."

Buffy isn't aware of what's happening. She is grasping onto Spike's leather, her legs are no longer holding her weight. He scoops her up and lays her on the bed.

"BUFFY! Stop this! Stop! Breathe!" He whispers in screams. He places his cool hands on her face, smoothing away the torrent of tears. He has never known his Slayer to be so affected. It shakes him to his very core. Any thoughts he had of leaving are quickly decimated and he is berating himself for having entertained them. He would _not_ leave her. Not ever. Not even if she-

"Buffy…I'm sorry, babe. So sorry. Please…please calm down. I'm here. I'm here. I promise, I'll always be here. Please." She isn't responding. Her breaths are coming in short hitches. Her eyes are wide open and she is staring past him.

Spike can feel his anger brimming. **What did I do? Stupid. Stupid!**

"Buffy," he positions his face directly above hers. "Buffy." His voice is barely above a whisper. "I love you…I'll never leave."

Her eyes shift their focus from empty space to him. She blinks and fresh tears slide down her cheeks to the pillows.

"Yeah, that's right, pet." He continues to smooth her hair back, wipe her face. He ventures a small smile. She just blinks, staring at him as if he were something foreign, something unknown.

"I could never leave you, love" he confesses. "You're my whole bloody world, remember?" Buffy swallows hard. Spike brushes his fingers down her throat. Her breathing is almost normal now. "Yeah, that's it. Come back to me, baby."

Buffy blinks several times and tries to speak, but only small sounds escape from her throat. She sits up a bit and Spike stays with her, soothing and comforting her with words and touches. He hands her a glass of water from her nightstand.

"Take a swig." He's gentle and smiling now, oblivious to the turmoil inside. It's insignificant if it means deserting her now. Whatever she wants of him, he would gladly give with no thought of himself. Friend, fighter, trainer…whatever. He is hers to do with as she pleases. And he will never let anything harm her or those she loves as long is he is around.

"Y-you're leaving." She states softly.

"No. Never." He takes the glass from her and holds her hand, bringing it to his lips for a kiss.

"You said-"

"I was stupid, out of my bleedin' gourd. Forget I said anything, ok?"

"Forget everything?"

"Yeah, I'm not leavin' you and the nibblet." He smiles in relief.

She smiles a small smile.  "Forget everything?" He nods. "Even the part when you said I-I love you?"

Spike's expression suddenly turns serious. "Not that, no." He touches his forehead to hers. "_Never_ forget that."

They close their eyes and sit that way for a few moments. Hands clasped, foreheads touching, eyes closed. Buffy is the one that breaks away. She looks at Spike and he opens his eyes. She smiles and looks down bashfully.

"I'm…sorry. I must seem…so weak. I-"

"No…no-" he interrupts her, placing his hand on the back of her neck. "You're under a lot of pressure, Slayer. You don't need some stupid git like me mucking things up even more." She starts. "But if you want me around, I'm here for the long haul. We'll fight together, you and me, wha'ever happens."

"Whatever happens." She smiles a warm genuine smile and it warms him like a steady fire. "And never forget I love you."

"That's right, never forget I love you." He reassures her.

"No, William, never forget _I love you._"

Buffy can't recall ever noting the vast range of human emotions. She is sure that she is seeing a great many of them as her words sink into Spike's brain. _Never forget I love you._ Whatever is racing through him ends up on his lips as the most radiant smile she's ever seen.

"Wha'? but you…you said…"

"I said I love you. No ifs, ands or buts." She cups his face in her hand.

"I…I…uh…mmmm" he closes his eyes as the tears threaten to spill. **Dreamin'. Must be.** He opens them again and, yes, she's still there.

"Uhmmm…Buffy…I-" **Get it together man.** "I thought…y-you said before…earlier…you weren't sure."

"I was sure, Spike." She brushes away his tears. "I just wasn't brave."

"Bloody hell, slayer." Spike is laughing through his tears. He places his hands on her hips. "You're the bravest…most unbelievably beautiful…most courageous…most heavenly creature…_ever-_" He settles down and looks deep into her. She is obviously overwhelmed by his words, his exclamation. "Ever to walk this earth." He finishes softly.

"Spike, I-" No clever response. She is overcome with the incredible feeling of being loved, truly loved. It's like the dam has burst on a vast river of goodwill and kindness and she is the sole recipient.

Spike has a look of complete awe and wonder and Buffy's heart swells. "You love me." She nods, smiling.

**I love this man and together we can get through this.**

**Yes. **He responds to her without words.  **We can, love.**

They smile into each other's eyes. Buffy leans into him and their lips touch. The kisses this time are feather-like and soft like tears. They are honey kisses that last through most of the night.

At last, near dawn, they curl up on the bed and fall asleep in each other's arms. Their intimacy is limited to kisses and thoughts, but it is as close as either of them has ever been to pure ecstasy.

They sleep peacefully, no nightmares to disturb them. No voices from the corners and recesses of their minds. They sleep the sleep of the forgiven.

They know that tomorrow they will wake up from the darkness and into the light and face the world together.

TBC


	12. On Any Other Day

On Any Other Day 

__

It is the light that stirs Buffy from her peaceful sleep. The softness of the bed, the filtered light, and the strong arms that are holding her – all of this adds up to not getting up.

**Mmm. This is definitely a good.**

She carefully turns in Spike's arms and traces the outline of his jaw with her finger. His eyes are closed in deep slumber and she takes the quiet time to study him.

Even in sleep, his hands are holding her in a firm caress. She smiles inwardly and lightly brushes her lips across his. No response. **Deep sleeper. **She grins. **I'll have to test that sometime.**

She traces her fingertip along his eyebrow when her eyes drift away from his face and over to the window. Her breath catches in her throat.

The first rays of the sun are sliding over the sill towards them.

She bolts upright, startling Spike out of his stillness.

"S-slayer?" His voice is deeper than normal, velvet-covered gravel. He rubs the sleep from his eyes and attempts to gauge the situation as she darts off of the bed and over to the window.

"Damn!" Buffy pulls the shade down with a little too much force and it snaps from the anchor, letting in more light.

"Hey!" Spike spins off of the bed and to the other side of the room. "What the-" He stops as he watches her frantically trying to cover the window with a blanket, cursing under her breath. He exhales unnecessarily, placing his hands on his knees. He begins to laugh softly, at first, and then more heartily. At the sound of his laughter, Buffy spins around glaring at him.

"What's so _funny_?" She crosses her arms, her jaw set in anger.

Spike is still chuckling until he looks up and his eyes meet hers. What he sees there is anger masking fear. Fear of what, though, he doesn't know.

"That was stupid – you could've…could've." She sighs. "We have to be more careful."

All that Spike can do is smile. He crosses over to her and places his hands on her shoulders. Yep, she's trembling all right. He runs his fingers back and forth across her shoulders, waiting for her eyes to meet his, and she begins to relax. Her arms hang down at her sides, and she finally does look up. He steps into her and places his hand on the back of her head, leaning it against his chest. His arms enfold her. Her arms circle his waist feeling the cool skin beneath his shirt.

Spike doesn't say anything. He knows. She had been frightened for him. She'd seen the sunlight coming in and it had terrified her. If he needed any confirmation that last night, something he suspected had been a dream up until this very moment, is real: here it is. She loves him.

They stand that way for a few moments until she pulls back a little and looks up at him. He places a kiss on the tip of her nose.

"Love you."

"Love you too."

He kisses her forehead and turns from her. She watches as he gathers his coat and goes to the door.

"See you in a little while, Slayer." He smiles.

"Yep." She smiles back. She is sad to have him leave so soon, but she knows that having them emerge together from her bedroom would only be fuel on the fire that is the Potential Rumor Mill.

She takes a deep breath, stretches and heads to the bathroom, grabbing her robe. She's going to take advantage of being up so early by getting first dibs on the hot water.

"Aw yeah."

------------------------

Spike, in the basement, cleans up and changes into a fresh set of clothes. His lips are afflicted with a permanent smile that periodically travels up to his eyes and back down only to repeat the trip as he recalls the last 12 hours.

**Gotta maintain, though. ** **Can't have this distracting her or the others. Things to kill, evil to fight. Girl to love. Damn, there goes the smile again.**

He thinks of her smiling. _I love you._ He still can't quite fathom it. He dresses absent-mindedly and heads up the steps. When he reaches the top, she is there. The smile is plaguing her as well, apparently.

"Hey again." She blushes. **Blushing for me? Oh man…**

"Hey yourself." He grins, his tongue curling against his teeth. **Don't kiss him…don't kiss him...but so want to.**

They are both snatched out of the moment by the sound of clanging dishes and voices coming from the kitchen. Spike winks at her, puts on his best I'm-just-hangin face, and strolls into the kitchen. Buffy follows closely behind, but she sneaks a glance, amazed at his acting ability.

They run smack dab into a 3-ring circus complete with giggling, bickering teenage girls, a yawning Willow and their…uh…hostage, Andrew with that damn video camera. 

-------------

Author's note: Okay, so this is where 'Storyteller' comes in. I suggest you watch the episode because I'm not going to re-hash it here. The next chapter will take place post 'Storyteller' with my interpretation of the rest of the series.

Thanks again for reading and for your reviews. It's so exciting to have an audience!

~Xionin

TBC


	13. I'm So Happy I Can't Stop Crying

Author's note: Takes place immediately after 'Storyteller'. I am looking for a beta, so if anyone's interested, drop me a line. 

~Xionin (perra_de_amor@yahoo.com)

Enjoy!

*****************************************************

I'm So Happy That I Can't Stop Crying 

Spike straightens out his shirt and glances around again.

"Yep, Slayer did it." He turns towards Wood. The principal's back is to him as he walks away. "Right...nice workin' with you too." He mutters.

Buffy and Andrew emerge from the basement. If he didn't know any better, Spike would swear that the boy seems to have aged 10 years. **Maybe he's sussed out that it's not all  fun and games.** He muses.

"You alright?" He looks Buffy over, concern set in his brow.

"Yeah," she smiles thinly. "We're fine, he just..." She gestures to Andrew. "He needed a quick lesson in reality." Spike relaxes and briefly places his hand in the small of her back, mostly for his own reassurance. He is careful not to do it in Andrew's sightline, although Andrew isn't really aware of the pair of them, he is so lost in his own thoughts.

The three walk back to the Summers' home in relative silence. Spike steals glances at Buffy when she isn't looking. She does the same. They are both wary at having a third person along, but it can't be helped. Andrew follows behind, his head down. They reach the house and file inside, exhausted from their efforts.

The threesome enters in the midst of a heated conversation that hushes as soon as Buffy and Spike enter the living room. Andrew quickly disappears upstairs, off in another world, it seems. Spike walks to the bottom of the stairs and watches the boy retreat, a curious expression on his face. Several Potentials are sitting around and their eyes follow Spike's every move. It doesn't go unnoticed.

"Is there a problem?" Buffy crosses her arms and addresses the group. Recognizing the tone in her voice, Spike steps back and stands behind her, looking to the group for a response.

"No." Kennedy's voice is hard and cold as is her expression. She cocks her head in defiance. Buffy lets out a sigh and heads into the kitchen. Spike lingers for a moment, narrowing his eyes at the group and follows her slowly. Willow and Xander are sitting at the kitchen counter.

"Buffy, everything go as planned?" Willow's voice is weary, but she puts on a cheery face.

"Yeah...uh..." Buffy winces at some sudden fatigue and rolls her head around in an attempt to stretch out her muscles. Spike, without thinking, slips his hands onto her shoulders and begins to knead. She relaxes and continues.

"I think we succeeded in closing the seal...for now, at least. May buy us a little time." She casually places her hand on her shoulder on top of Spike's. He kisses the top of her head and releases her, heading to the refrigerator.

This entire scene plays out in front of Willow and Xander and the fact that the blonde pair is so in sync leaves both parties speechless. Willows eyes widen at the display. Xander feels the sudden need to be in the other room. Spike pulls out a container of blood and reaches for a mug.

"I'm…uh…gonna go check on the…uh…girls." Xander lamely offers. He exits quickly. Buffy sighs, tired of walking on eggshells, she simply sits next to Willow on the vacated stool.

"You must be pretty beat, huh?" Buffy nods at Willow's question. "You hungry? There's leftover mac and cheese."

"Nah, I think I'm just going to head upstairs." Buffy slides off of the stool and heads out of the kitchen, glancing quickly over her shoulder to Spike who catches her voice faintly in his head. **15 minutes, then come up. **Buffy quietly leaves.

Spike looks down at his mug when he feels Willow's eyes on him and he looks up at her. She has a look of pure incredulity. She is initially unaware of her glaring, but then her face suddenly reddens and she looks down at her hands quickly. Spike, his eyebrows furled, brings the cup slowly to his lips.

"Heard that, did you?" he asks just before he sips, never taking his eyes off of her. Willow's eyes slowly rise to his.

"Uh huh." She looks oddly guilty, but even more oddly she looks…miffed.

"Hear anything else lately?" Spike sets the mug onto the counter. He places both hands flat and lowers himself a bit more to her eye level. Willow blinks in slow motion and a thin smile spreads across her lips. If it's possible, her face becomes redder still.

"Since you're asking…" she turns her head towards the door. Confident that no one is approaching, she turns back to Spike. "I taught her that, y'know."

Spike's eyebrows rise in confusion for a moment, and then he realizes, his eyebrows reaching for the ceiling, "the mind bit."

"Yes. I-it was for emergencies and…stuff."

"And…stuff?" Spike dares a grin. Willow doesn't return it.

"Well…yeah…stuff," she's a little unsure of where he is going with this. "How long-"

"-have we been…speaking…that way?" Willow nods to Spike that he's finished the question correctly. "Started the other night…when, uh we-" He's not sure how much to reveal to the redhead. She nods in understanding, though.

"I know…I was in the kitchen when she told you to go upstairs and wait for her." Willow once again looks down a little guiltily.

"So when you followed me, you'd heard her?" Spike knows that Buffy and Willow had spoken about whatever was happening between them, but he didn't know how much they had discussed.

"Yeah, that's why I had to ask you what was up. I mean-" Willow's eyes look around the ceiling, searching for something. "That was some heavy duty stuff I felt from you and Buffy…and Xander."

"So…do you..I mean-" Now it's Spike's turn to stammer for the words.

"Spike," Willow hops off of the stool and approaches the newly souled, master vampire. "Make Buffy happy and we're friends forever," she says almost cheerily. Something dark then passes over her face as her voice lowers to a whisper. "Make her sad or hurt her in anyway…" She doesn't finish. Spike feels a pressure, like an invisible something…a hand, maybe…squeezing his throat. It doesn't hurt, but it sure-as-hell frightens him. His eyes harden to a darker blue and he smiles with new respect for the witch.

"Understood." He says slowly. **I would never hurt her or allow her to be harmed. Not while I unlive and unbreathe.**

**You've said that before. ** She responds. Spike winces and his eyes close momentarily. 

He opens them again, determined. The two are standing inches apart as he leans down to look into her eyes. **That was before…I would never. I could never. EVER.**

"I would rather die." He says aloud. Neither of them takes notice as Giles enters the room, just returning from his trip he places one bag on the floor, a smaller one on the stool. His movements are in slow motion as he quietly observes the two of them.

Willow slowly lifts her hand and it hovers over the place where Spike's heart should be. He nods in permission and she touches his chest. A slow tingling sensation starts out from her palm, through her fingers and into Spike's chest. He feels a pang of fear and then relaxes as the tingling turns into warmth.

Willow closes her eyes, her mouth opening slightly. He studies her face, her mouth and realizes he's never been this close to her before. He'd never noticed how pretty she is. Not beautiful like the Slayer, but…genuinely pretty. Just then the warmth spreads through his chest and he is forced to close his eyes.

Willow gasps and mutters something under her breath. Spike's eyes snap open as do hers as if answering. They stare into each other.

Giles' first instinct is to interrupt whatever Willow is attempting, but he is learning to trust the reforming Wicca. Besides, he will intervene if things get out of hand.

Spike and Willow are both on a mound or hill of some sort watching a small but fierce battle. Several Potentials are in a heated fight against agents of the First. Spike attempts to move from the spot they're in, but he is unable.

"You can't move," Willow says to him. "You can only watch."

"Why are we here? What's this for?" Spike turns to her, angrily.

"This is what's coming, Spike."

"I bloody well know that."

"And will you be there?"

"What?"

"Will you be there when it comes down to this?"

Spike glares at her for a moment and then he hears Buffy's scream over the din of the fighting. He turns toward the sound and he sees her exchanging blows with someone while her left arm hangs loosely at her side.

"Buffy!"

"She can't hear you." Willow is unbelievably calm in this maelstrom.

"Why are you showing me this?" Spike is furious and outraged with the witch.

"Will you be there…will you be able to watch this knowing…knowing" she trails off. "Will you fight with her? For her?"

"God, of course I will!" Spike is desperate in his fury. He wants to run to her aid.

"Even now?" Willow asks and Spike looks at her quizzically and then turns his head back towards Buffy.

Buffy is standing aside as Angel defeats two attacking creatures. He then turns to her and takes her in his arms, comforting her. They both cling to each other, checking each other over for injuries. Suddenly their eyes lock and Angel bends to kiss her. Buffy timidly returns the kiss at first, but then it deepens and they wrap their arms around each other. Spike's mouth drops open and tears spring to his eyes.

"No…no no no."

"Could you still fight for her?" Willow is studying Spike intently.

"No...I…yes…yes, of course, but…" Spike can feel his heart breaking.

"No buts, Spike. Could you fight for her?" Willow's voice is outside of her, around her and larger than life. It humbles Spike's rage into submission.

Spike swallows and then blinks, the tears streaming down his face, his eyes locked on the kissing pair. "Yes, I will fight for her and with her and by her side. No matter what." He confirms in a crackling whisper.

Willow's eyes widen and then she suddenly smiles. The scene before them dissolves and Spike finds himself standing in the front lawn, with Willow, in front of a quiet Summers' home. Again he blinks, wipes the tears and looks at the redhead.

"I'm s-sorry I had to do that." She says softly.

"Why did you?" He isn't angry as much as he is confused.

"I needed to know. You need to be strong, Spike. For Buffy." Spike nods and the tears begin again. Willow turns around and the scene shifts again. Buffy appears before them and she is smiling, crying, laughing…all at once. She looks broken but free…relieved.

"She does need you, Spike." Willow turns back to him, but his eyes are on the Slayer. There are twin rivers of salty liquid flowing down his face.

Giles moves closer to the pair, his gaze fixated on Spike's face and he places a hand on Willow's shoulder. She lets out a long breath and her hand falls away from Spike's chest. Spike stumbles backwards and he catches himself on the sink. He then notices Giles' presence. Eyes darting back and forth between the two of them, he straightens up and clears his throat. He turns to the back door, opens it, and walks out, closing the door behind him.

"Willow?" Giles doesn't know what to make of the scene he's just witnessed.

"Hi Giles." Willow mumbles slowly, still watching the door.

"What, may I ask, was that all about?" He gently turns the girl towards him.

"I-I showed him something that he needed to see." Willow replies softly.

"Well...do you think it w-was wise to, er, use your magic thusly?" He asks gently.

Willow looks up at Giles and she suddenly seems unsure. "I think so, I dunno. I hope so."

Upstairs, Buffy steps back into her room; her hair is wet from the shower. She is disappointed to find that Spike is not there waiting for her. She reluctantly dresses in a tank and loose sweats before heading downstairs to look for him.

She peeks into the living room and scans the scattered sleeping bags filled with frightened but agitated young girls, thankfully too distracted by the glow of the television to notice her.

Buffy turns into the kitchen where she finds a newly returned Giles. It is obvious that he and Willow are having another 'talk.' 

"Giles, Spike will be fine." Buffy only hears the last part of Willow's sentence before she interrupts.

"What's this about Spike?" Buffy's great fear is that her former Watcher will find out some twisted version of what has transpired between her and the blonde vampire in the last few days before she's had a chance to explain.

Willow turns to Buffy, an explanation forming on her lips, when Giles intervenes.

"That's precisely what I would like to know, Buffy." His fatigue from travel shows in his voice, as does his determination to finish the conversation they'd begun over the phone.

---------

Spike walks away from Revello drive, in no particular direction, but his feet carry him to a familiar place. His hands continue to wipe angrily at the tears that refuse to stop their descent from his broken eyes.

"Oh God…why…do I keep bloody doing this to myself!" he mutters. Wandering over to the familiar gray slab bearing the name of the one woman that had ever treated him with a modicum of pre-soul kindness, "Hi Joyce." He crouches down in front of the tombstone, tracing his fingers over the letters and numbers etched in the granite. "Wish you were here, luv. You could tell me what the bloody hell to do here." Spike's words are angry, but his voice is soft in despair.

"She said she loved me, but I-I…" He places his head in his hands and begins rocking slowly, back and forth, finally curling up in a ball in front of the stone.

"I was happy, Joyce…for a moment" he whispers. "I mean…it was a bloody dream come true, hearing those words come out of her mouth." He sighs. "I don't deserve her love…I know that. But…" He chokes out a sob. "I guess…I guess I misunderstood, didn't I?" He uncurls and lays flat on his back.

"I read more into those words. She. Loves. Me." He pauses. "but she's not _in_ love with me." He lets out an exasperated and ragged breath, but he is calming in his rationalization.

"Her heart will always belong to Angel, won't it, Joyce?" He turns his head towards the small monument. He brushes his fingertips in long strokes across her name, almost in reverence. "She misses you, y'know."

"So does the nibblet." He sighs, looking up at the night sky. "I miss you too, but don't worry. She may not love me as I would like, but she needs me. They all do. I'll defend them with every last ounce of my strength."

"I promise."

With that he closes his eyes, his hand tracing lightly on his chest in the place where his heart should be.

---------------------

Willow quietly slips out of the room as Buffy and Giles are locked in what seems to be a stare down, of sorts. It is the older man that breaks the stalemate.

"Buffy-" he starts.

"Look…" Buffy sighs and plops down on a stool, her fatigue returning ten-fold. "Giles, we've had this discussion."

"No, I'm afraid we haven't, Buffy. Now I understand that you feel somewhat responsible for Spike, but I still strongly believe that you are allowing his…er…state to cloud your judgment."

Buffy looks slightly stunned by his words. "His…STATE?" Her lips form a thin, red line to prevent her next thought from escaping her mouth.

"Er…yes…his souled state," Giles offers weakly, attempting to gather his thoughts. It is clear that he has not adjusted to the change in time zone. He looks as if he's been awakened from REM sleep…eyes unfocused…words disjointed. "I know that his having gotten a soul…has…affected your judgment of him."

"My judgment of him? Giles, listen to yourself." Buffy's patience is making a hasty exit, stage left as she attempts to keep some semblance of calm in her voice. "I am not anyone to judge Spike, Giles and neither are you." Giles squints his eyes as the deep ridges of his forehead express his disbelief and imminent anger at her statement.

"Not anyone to…dear lord, girl, I can't believe your stupidity." His voice is so low that, if you were sitting across the room you would think that they were having an intimate conversation on a pleasant topic. But the words are dripping with condescension and Buffy bristles in reaction.

"My _what?_" She straightens up.

"You're incredibly arrogant, young lady." She blinks at him. "You've known of Vampires for, what, 6 years and suddenly you're an expert on the species? Lest we forget I've spent the better part of my life hunting and killing the blasted things…readying myself to train the Vampire Slayer…and now, what…I end up with a Slayer that not only has romantic involvement with _two_ of them-" He spits out the word. "But is now endangering much of the Slayer line, not to mention the lives of her family and friends, by having him in this house!"

Buffy shoots up so quickly that Giles steps back from her defensively.

"If I thought that Spike were a danger, Giles, I would stake him myself!"

"But you didn't, did you Buffy? He was feeding and siring again, for the First, and you didn't rid yourself of him." Giles steps forward and squares off with his charge. "Instead you helped him. You brought him back here _knowing_ that he had that blasted trigger. _Knowing_ that, at any moment, he could rip your throat out. Or Dawn's. Or Willow's!"

Buffy is shaking, her anger brimming. She wants to hit something, crush something, but instead she balls her fists up so tightly that her fingernails draw half-moon circles of blood in her palms. The stinging cools her ire down a degree, but only one.

Giles sighs, knowing that this line of fire will not sway her. "You've made a decision that Spike is an ally, Buffy, and I won't challenge that. But I do need to make sure that he is no danger to us all as a puppet of the First."

"He isn't-" she interjects.

"Oh he bloody well is!" His temper begins to simmer again, but he abates it. "That is why I went in search of something…something that may be able to break the First's hold on him."

Buffy relaxes her stance and lets out a small sigh of relief. "A way to de-trigger him?"

"Yes…but only if he is willing."

"He is."

"Are you sure, Buffy?" He moves closer to her and places a hand lightly on her shoulder. It is an awkward gesture, but she appreciates the sentiment.

"Yes. He wants nothing more than to be free of it, Giles." She steps around him and turns back, regarding how fragile he seems all of a sudden. Not the wise sage she once thought him to be. Just a man. A man with fears. And a man with secrets.

"Well…er…good." Giles fumbles in his pocket for a handkerchief. Finding one, he dabs at his forehead and pushes his glasses up, turning to face her. "Tomorrow I will research exactly how this will work. Of course, I will probably need Willow's, uh, assistance." Buffy nods. She looks over to the back door. Three beats later, Spike enters.

His eyes lock onto Buffy's and Giles becomes instantly uncomfortable and rigid. "We'll talk tomorrow Buffy." He turns his back on Spike and gathers his things. Turning back to Spike, partially "Spike." Spike doesn't acknowledge him. Giles leaves the room unnoticed by either of them. Spike slowly closes the door behind him and leans against it.

"Where were you," Buffy asks softly. "Why didn't you come up, did you-, did something happen?"

Spike smiles, but it is only with his mouth. "Nah, pet…just needed some air, is all." He walks towards her, arms outstretched, and she steps into him. He folds her into himself and rests his chin on her head. "I'll always love you, Buffy Summers." He states simply…softly. She mmmmmm's into his chest.

He smiles, but a tear escapes. Quickly, he brushes it away. "I'll walk you upstairs, luv." She tips her head back and the look of contentment on her face breaks his heart even more.

**God, I wish. I wish. I wish. I wish.**

He kisses her forehead before she turns to lead them upstairs.

TBC


	14. Fall Out

Title: Fall Out (Chapter 14 of Don't Stop the Dance)  
  
Author: Xionin  
  
Rating: PG [this chapter]  
  
Pairing: Buffy/Spike. Other major characters included.  
  
Feedback: Pretty please?  
  
Disclaimer: The characters belong to Joss Whedon, Mutant Enemy, UPN and Fox. **I write with spoilers in mind, so if you want to remain unspoiled, I suggest you wait until the series finale to read this story.**  
  
Thank yous: Welcome aboard to Miss Kitty, the world's greatest beta! Thanks to everyone that's reviewed so far, you're so very kind. Lia – it has been a tough season, hasn't it? And, unfortunately, I don't hold high hopes for Spike in the final episodes. Crazedvamp – I hope this chapter answers your question, somewhat. Wolf116 – glad I could make you smile! Enjoy! ~Xionin  
  
Fall Out 

Buffy walks up to her door and opens it, walking through, her steps slowed by exhaustion. She is holding Spike's hand as he follows her, but he stops at the threshold of her door, allowing her hand to tug at him for a moment until she turns back to him, perplexed.

He _really_ wants to step inside, but to cross that line…knowing.

"Spike?" Buffy's voice is weary, it snaps him out of his reflection. "What's up? What happened downstairs?"

"Nothin' luv…jus-" he sighs and forces a smile. "Jus tired, is all." But he still doesn't move. He stands, as if frozen, just outside of his heaven: her room. Her world. _Her._

He wants to feel angry, with the witch, with Willow. He understands with painful clarity what the phrase 'Ignorance is bliss' really means. If he could…if he…if only he could go back. A few hours even. Go back in time and _not_ know the vision.

**Buffy in Angel's arms.**** _Angel!_ Always Angel.**

"S-Spike…" Buffy moves toward him slowly. He is staring beyond her and she wonders what the hell-"Spike, you're all moody. Don't tell me it's nothing. What happened with you?" He suddenly notices her. "Was it Giles? Willow?" His eyes widen at the mention of the redhead. "It was Willow? What did she- did she hurt…"

"Pet." He has to clear his throat; it's so dry…parched. She crosses over to him, stopping just in front. Her eyes are so soft, her demeanor so gentle, so loving. Spike feels…bitter. He inadvertently takes a small step back. Buffy frowns and her eyes dart over his frame in an attempt to understand whatever it is that's going on.

"Sp-"

"I-I should go, Buff" He is unable to look her in the eye.

"Go?" She reaches up to touch his face but he flinches. "Wh-Spike. What the hell is going on?" Her tone is slightly harder, her nostrils flaring as her impatience stirs.

"Look, pet, a lot has happened. Don't misunderstand, I'm grateful-"

"Grateful?" Buffy huffs and steps back from him.

"I mean-" he lets out a deep sigh. "I don't think I could ever express how much it means to me, luv, being here with you." She relaxes a little and smiles, but he continues. "I never thought…I didn't think you and I would ever get to this place, y'know?" She nods.

"Spike, do you wanna come in here and we can talk ab-"

"No…no, bad idea, that." He laughs nervously and ignores the lump of pain building in the back of his throat. She shrugs her shoulders in a question. "Let me finish." She nods, leaning against the doorframe. Her expression is so full of love and patience that he almost gives in. Almost.

"Like I said, I never thought that we'd be in this place…that you'd let me get this close. And yeah, I'm grateful. But my eyes are clear, luv." She tenses up and he runs his hand lightly down her arm and takes her hand. She looks down as her fingers lace through his.

"I'm here for you, Buffy, always." She smiles, but doesn't look up. "I'll always love you…no matter what." At that she does look up and she catches the tears in his eyes.

"Spike." She breaks their contact and raises both of her hands to his cheeks, wiping the tears. "What's this all about?"

"Luv…I know I'll never be enough for you…and I don't want you to settle…for less than you deserve." His voice is faltering, the tears threatening to engulf him. Buffy really wishes that they were in her room and not halfway in the hall.

"Spike, why are you saying this? I thought we…I thought we were better." She tries to make eye contact with him, but he refuses.

"We are…we're better." He chokes out a bitter laugh. "We're better than I ever thought we'd be, luv. Better than I deserve."

Buffy's hands drop and she starts to speak, but no words come. She turns from him, back into the room, mumbling to herself and shaking her head. Finally, she turns back.

"What is _going on _with you!?" She is clearly annoyed. Spike is suddenly unsure and he shifts from foot to foot, shoving his hands into his pockets. "What did they say to you down there? Huh?"

"S'not what anyone said, luv. I _know_ you. I'm just saying that our friendship is important to me and I don't want to muddy it up by doing something we'll both regret later." Maybe she'll understand, now, and not see how much this is killing him.

"Our..._friendship_?" Buffy does a perfect impersonation of a codfish. "Is that what this is?" Her shoulders slump, defeated as the air leaks out of her annoyance.

"Not just that, luv," he whispers. "You mean the world to me. I don't want to risk hurting you again." He pauses, taking a deep breath to prepare for his admission, "and…I…I can't risk being hurt again."

Buffy blinks once, twice and then her hands cover her face. The urge to walk to her and take her in his arms is bloody overwhelming, but Spike doesn't move. Buffy calms herself and takes her hands down. The tears aren't falling, but her face is wet.

"Ok. I understand." She offers a small smile. He struggles to return it.

"Well…I uh…better" he gestures over his shoulder.

"Yeah…uh…I'll see you…um…tomorrow."

They stare at each other a few moments, neither wanting to move. Neither knowing what to say. Neither knowing what just happened. Spike turns to go.

"Spike?"

"Yes?"

"When did you fall in love with me?"

**Wasn't expecting that…bugger. This is hard enough. Ah well. **He clears his throat.

"The first moment I saw you, luv. All tough and soft, and fire and ice." His posture and voice soften as his memories come flooding back. He leans against the doorframe and she takes a few steps towards him. Blue meets green as he continues.

"You…were…the end of me, Slayer. I came to kill you, but you did me in." He chuckles. She smiles up at him, leaning her head on the other side of the doorframe. "You were…are…the most beautiful thing I've ever seen. You melted and reformed me with one glance." He reaches up and cups her face in his hand, his eyes misting again.

"And…" her expression saddens considerably. "When…when did you fall out?" It is almost a whisper, but he catches it. He straightens and brushes his fingers over her brow, which relaxes. He leans in and places a soft, chaste kiss on her temple. "You see when it comes to you, Buffy Summers" he whispers in her ear. "You don't fall out."

Before she can respond, he turns and walks down the stairs. She closes her bedroom door and sits on the floor against it, the tears spilling once more.

"Don't ever fall out, Spike. Never fall out."

TBC


	15. Man In A Suitcase

Title: Man in a Suitcase (Chapter 15 of Don't Stop the Dance)   
Author: Xionin  
  
Rating: PG-13 [this chapter]  
  
Pairing: Buffy/Spike. Other major characters included.  
  
Feedback: Oh but of course!  
  
Disclaimer: I stopped by Joss' house to borrow a cup of Spike. He said he was all out, but that if I picked up a box at Costco, he'd go half-sies. I said sure, why not, as long as I can borrow some of the other characters for a while. Hey, I drive a hard bargain. Notes: Takes place between 'Storyteller' and 'Lies My Parents Told Me'. Contains entire text of Shakespeare's Sonnet Number 71   
Thank yous: Miss Kitty – Beta-extraordinaire! Tracy – I'm humbled. Thanks for your kind words. Enjoy! ~Xionin Man in a Suitcase 

Buffy wakes up alone. And sore. Every muscle in her body is clenched and apparently has been for hours. She's slept this way. Jaw riveted. Fists balled into tiny boulders. She closes her eyes and sees it all again.

_Spike turns and walks away. Spike turns and walks away. He turns and walks away. He turns and walks away. Spike walks away._

She slowly relaxes her body into the mattress and in the release of the tension she bursts into tears. Her body shudders with her dry sobs. Her mouth is open with a grotesque half-smile-half-grimace. Her throat is constricting, but no sound escapes.

**Wasn't supposed to be like this. God, I really screwed it up.**

She inhales sharply and the action causes her to cough. There's a soft knock on the door.

"Buffy?" Dawn's tiny voice seeps through the seams of the wooden door. "You up?" Buffy draws a pillow over her face. Inhale. Exhale. Inhale. Exhale.

"Just getting up now, Dawnie." She holds her breath as another sob threatens to escape.

"You ok?"

**No I'm not fucking okay. I waited too long. Listened to everyone way too much instead of following my…and now...now it's too late. TOO LATE...but you won't understand.**

She lowers the pillow. "I'm ok, Dawn. Didn't get much sleep." She lies. "I'll be down in a bit."

"Well hurry it up. Giles says he needs to see you...he and Willow." Dawn's voice trails off as she moves away from the door.

"Yeah, okay." Buffy kicks the covers off, but it doesn't ease her frustration. Annoyed with herself, she picks the discarded sheets up off the floor, balls them up, and tosses them back on the bed. Running her hands through her hair, she walks over to the window and peers out. **Another Sunny day in not-so-Sunnydale.** It should cheer her up, right? The sunshine.

It doesn't. 

In fact, it has the opposite effect. It only makes her think of the night. And the night represents something entirely different.

Last year, the night meant solace: a reprieve from the harsh realities of her life. False smiles given to her friends and family just so that they wouldn't worry. False smiles given in reassurance that she'd forgiven them for pulling her out of Heaven.

The daylight that she'd once adored was a nightmare and the only way she could pull herself out of it was by turning to the only one that seemed to understand what she was going through: Spike.

Spike: the man that loved her.

Of course she never honored him by calling him a man then. She called him everything _but_ a man. A monster. Soulless, heartless, cruel, evil, defenseless, ridiculous, neutered, laughable Spike. But he wasn't that. Hadn't been for a long time, many of those things. What he _was_ was everything she didn't want and everything she'd needed...so desperately...and she _used him_.

God, she used him like a tissue you soil and then discard. Used him like a bottle of alcohol you drain to forget your troubles and then toss out with the garbage. Used him like a confessional. Like a form of penance.

She treated him like a thing, like a 'lesser than'. And now she expects him to be grateful for her? Of course she does, he always has been. 

Grateful for every crumb she threw his way.

He begged for it every time she slithered away from the bed after fucking him six ways from Sunday until she was numb inside and out and didn't need him to make her 'feel' anymore.

He begged her to stay, sometimes with words, sometimes with his eyes. And she had only laughed, or hit...mostly hit. And when he got to her, when she felt those heartstrings beginning to vibrate, she spat hate at him to validate her own warped, black and white view of the world.

**And now I expect him to be grateful that I've allowed him in, that I said 'sorry'? Geez, Buffy. Selfish much?**

Buffy turns from the window and goes to search through her drawers for something to wear. She looks up in the mirror and pauses at her reflection.

"Oh my God," she says quietly. "I've lost him. I can never take it back."

------------

Spike is lying on the cot, still dressed in last night's clothes, but does it really matter? He hasn't slept anyway. He'd heard her all night, in her room, wrestling with her nightmares.

**How could I have been so bloody wrong? She could never love me that way. Bleedin' idiot.**

He replays the recent events in his mind, including the searing kisses and the vision of Buffy in Angel's arms. Both had changed his world inalterably.****

**She said she loved me...and the kisses…'er lips. What else would I think? But...maybe the kisses were of the same sort of cold comfort she needed last year.**

He squeezes his eyes shut.

**Shit, I dunno. Damn Red and her bloody vision!**

**But it isn't Willow's fault, is it?**

He knows Buffy better than anyone. He knows that every insult she pelted him with last year had held a grain of truth for her. No, she couldn't ever love him that way. His eyes open to the ceiling.****

**As a friend, yes, but nothing more.**

It should be enough, but somehow it isn't.****

He chides himself with a snort and sits up. Running his fingers through his hair, he pulls his t-shirt roughly over his head and stands up, tossing it in the dirty pile. Grabbing a fresh one from a pile of clean laundry, he tugs it on. The sound of many, clobbering feet above his head brings out a groan.

**I'm here to help and that's what I'll do. When this is all over, though, if I'm still standing…** he lowers his head, placing his hands on the washer. **I-I don't know if this is the best place for me to be.**

**But how can I leave?**

He turns and heads up the steps. He opens the basement door only to find Buffy standing on the other side. It's a torturous form of Déjà vu. No smiles this time only two sets of anguished eyes.

"Mornin'" His voice is barely above a whisper as he takes in the sight of her. All of the emotion of the last few days sweeps over him like a tsunami, but he remains in control.

"Hey." She replies with a weak smile.

"You sleep ok?" He asks, genuine concern in his voice. He wants her to tell him exactly how she slept, but he knows she'll lie.

"Yeah," she lies. "You?"

"Yeah." Lies all lies, but they both agree to the farce.

"I was just coming to get you...Giles has something to talk to me about and I wanted...I wondered...if you could work with the girls down here."

"Yeah...sure." **That's what I'm here for.**

"Great...thanks." **I don't know how much of this I can bear. He looks so broken. How do I fix this? Can I fix this?**

"No problem, luv." He produces an actual smile this time, and she gratefully returns it. Suddenly they both break eye contact, looking around and down and about...anywhere but at each other.

"Well...just let me-" he begins, stepping towards her.

"Of course." She says nervously, stepping back out of his way.

He brushes past her and she inhales involuntarily. **Love him.**

"Jus' need to get a cuppa...something to stop my stomach from grumblin'-" he mumbles, moving past her. Her arm jerks out and she places her hand on his arm and he stops, turning back to her.

"Spike-" she dares to look up at him. "I'm..." Her face falls and he is so still that he looks frozen. Just then he flashes his white teeth and gives her the warmest smile he can muster.

"No need, pet." He places his hand on top of hers and squeezes gently before moving away and into the kitchen. She watches him and leans back against the closing basement door. She needs to get away from him it's too much.

**Being near him is too much right now.**

She heads the opposite direction and out the front door to try a little sunshine therapy.

-----------

Spike straightens up the basement after his light workout with the Potentials. Attendance was poor, since they've made it clear that they're uncomfortable around him for some reason. Not that anything's changed, but he can feel something brewing.

Either way, he's done his part for the day and decides to settle in for some reading. The girls have gone out for a while and the house is blessedly quiet. He scratches his head a bit and wonders what he's in the mood for.

**Anything to keep me from thinking about _her._**

Too late, there she is. _Buffy. _He sighs, reaching under the cot for a small suitcase full of things retrieved from the crypt before he'd officially moved into Fort Summers. He slides the well-worn case out and pulls it up onto the cot.

It is old, very old. He doesn't even remember when he'd gotten it. 1910? 1920? Somewhere around there. He clicks both locks open and lifts the lid. The smell of dust, age and paper hits his sensitive nostrils. He inhales deeply, closing his eyes.

_Blood._

_A walking stick._

_A gentleman. The look of horror on his face as Drusilla bears down on him,_

_Spike standing by watching his dark beauty make of meal of the foppish young man._

_'Frilly shirt, one that Angelus would love, but it's stained now.'_

_Lovely little walking cane, but what would he want with that._

_Beautiful leather case. 'Ah...now that I'll have**.'**_

Spike feels nauseous. He shakes the memory from his head, whispers, "I'm sorry, I didn't know" as he does every time the memory of a kill comes to him. It's a reverent phrase. Almost a Hail Mary.

Sifting through the contents of the case he shuffles through pages of poetry, some small trinkets and scraps of fabric, and a few bits of shells and stones he's collected in his travels. Occasionally he pulls something out and rubs it through his fingers, reliving some pleasant memory, a small smile playing on his lips.

**The first time in Barcelona.**

He muses over a tiny coin that's been pressed flat. A memory of railroad tracks and a near decapitation breezes through his mind. He chuckles.

Digging deeper into the case, he peruses what's left of his collection of books: Neruda, Moliere, Chaucer, Henry James, Dante, the Sonnets. That one stops him**.**

**A lil' Bard'll do me**.

He pulls out the leather-bound volume and flips through it gingerly.

The book falls open to one that he's always loved and had once committed to memory. He begins to softly read aloud from the page when the words fill his mind and he closes his eyes, not needing the written word anymore.

His voice is low and soft as he whispers the poem like a prayer.

_No longer mourn for me when I am dead  
Than you shall hear the surly sullen bell  
Give warning to the world that I am fled  
From this vile world with vilest worms to dwell:  
Nay, if you read this line, remember not  
The hand that writ it, for I love you so,  
That I in your sweet thoughts would be forgot,  
If thinking on me then should make you woe.  
O! if, I say, you look upon this verse,  
When I perhaps compounded am with clay,  
Do not so much as my poor name rehearse;  
But let your love even with my life decay;  
Lest the wise world should look into your moan,  
And mock you with me after I am gone._

Spike laughs at himself, at the thought that when he'd first set this poem to memory, he'd had assumed he'd die and leave Cecily to mourn him. Little had he known that he'd be condemned to more than 100 years of walking with, and bringing, death with him wherever he went.

And if he dies today, who will mourn him? The Slayer? Well, yeah. She loves him, after all, and would mourn the loss of her friend...her comrade in arms.

But that is not the kind of mourning the poet in him wants. William always wanted to be the world to someone: to be Cecily's world, the way she was his. The old Spike wanted to be Drusilla's world. And the new Spike wants to be Buffy's world, the way she is his. But she is more than his world. She is his galaxy, his universe.

His waking up and his lying down.

His going out and his coming in.

His 'never' and his 'forever'.

She is his life and she will be his death. He knows this. _Knows_ it. And welcomes it. He wouldn't have it any other way.

But if he were to die, right at this moment. If one of the Potentials or the Scoobies decided to stake him in his sleep, would she know? Were he to be...just gone...would she understand what she meant to him? How she'd changed him? Would she know that he understood why she could never love him and yet that he was grateful for everything she'd done, every time she'd treated him like a man?

**Probably not, you daft git, you never had the chance to explain.**

**Besides, she'd only shut down from the enormity of it if you told her.**

Spike sighs and puts the book back in the case.

**Best not to think on it too much, lest I charge upstairs and...**

He lets the thought slip away and tries to push it down inside and lock it in a box.

**But if I die...she'll never know.**

He glances over at the case and extracts a few sheets of blank, handmade paper. He pulls out a pen, closes the case and sits over it, placing the papers on top. He chews on the end of the pen, deep in thought. Looking down at the paper, he begins to write; Victorian penmanship scrawling across the surface like scrollwork in an ornate gate. He writes and reads, shakes his head and crumples up the first sheet, tossing it aside.

He begins again. This time the words flow out of his fingertips like water from a faucet. When they slow to a trickle, twenty minutes later, and end with a final droplet, he sits back and re-reads what he's laid out for her.

He doesn't notice the tears on his cheek, only smiles, satisfied with the clarity of what he's written. He folds the papers, sealing them with a lock fold, writes her name on the outside and places it back into the case. He knows she'll go through it when he's gone. Knows she'll find it and read it. Wishes he could tell her these things now, but he doesn't want to create more confusion for them.

When he does die, it will be easier for her to understand and to accept without having to deal with his feelings for her. He's fine with that, as long as she knows someday.

He slides the case back under the cot and leans back against the wall, closing his eyes. There's more noise coming from upstairs and the sun is setting. He prepares himself for the night, because who knows what it will bring. The door opens at the top of the steps.

"Hey Spike, you down there?" Kennedy's shrill voice jerks his eyes open.

"Yeah, M'here. What do you want?" It takes so little for her to agitate him.

"Buffy wants to know if you're up for patrolling" she huffs.

"Yeah, I'm coming." he slides off of the cot, grabbing his duster, and walks up the steps. Kennedy turns and walks away as he emerges from the basement. He hears Buffy's voice coming from the living room and moves towards it, not quite ready to see her, but oh well...

He's none too pleased to see Principal Wood there with her. He is turned so that he cannot see Spike approaching. Spike watches him watching Buffy as she explains something to a couple of the girls. Wood's eyes move appreciatively over Buffy's lithe body. Spike bristles, his jaw setting like stone.

"You wanted me?" Spike says a little too loudly to Buffy, never taking his eyes off the Principal. Everyone turns to look at him. He puts on his best smirk. Wood's eyes turn cold as they glance over him, paying particular attention to his black coat. Spike can smell the hatred seeping from him. He nods. Robin returns the gesture. Buffy walks over  between them.

"Spike-" she says as all-business-and-nothing-personal-ly as she can. There is so much tension between him and Wood, she can barely breathe. "I want you to patrol with Robin and me." Spike breaks eye contact with the man to glare down at her, a protest ready on his tongue. When he meets her eyes, however, he notes the pleading in them.

"Sure," is all he can muster as a response. Her eyes twinkle in appreciation as a small smile curves her lips. If he could blush he would but he ducks his head instead, finding something incredibly interesting on his boots to stare at. The gesture is so endearing that Buffy momentarily forgets where she is and who is with her because she steps forward and places her hand on his chest.

"Thanks." She says softly and smiles with her eyes. He looks up at her and smiles in return, happy to feel her touch again. Robin audibly grunts and then tries to cover by clearing his throat. Buffy nearly jumps back as her surroundings come back to her.

"Okay, then-" she says walking over to the table and grabbing a few stakes. "Let's go."

The unlikely threesome head out the door and into the night.

TBC [Next chapter begins post- 'Lies My Parents Told Me']


	16. Mother

Mother

Spike returns to Revello drive only when he's abso-fucking-lutely sure that no living thing is stirring. He is carrying the weight of his anger on a thin film of relief and quasi-gratitude and God help the person that crosses his path.

**Thank you bloody Robin Wood for setting me bloody free.**

The bitter words are bouncing around in his head, ricocheting off the shards of memories that now come freely as he makes his way silently through the house and down into the basement, grateful not to have encountered anyone inside. Glad, that he didn't have to speak to anyone, that he didn't have to see _her_.

In the quiet of the darkened basement, he sags lifelessly onto the cot, letting out an exaggerated breath, and swings his feet up to lie down, staring at the ceiling. He breathes in and out evenly, willing the anger to subside. It's giving him a headache, and he is already in a lot of pain.

Or maybe it's that he's fighting the inevitable, maybe that's what causing the pain behind his eyes. He closes them and lets it come.

Puzzle-piece-shaped memories now assemble in his mind completing pictures of people and times that he'd long forgotten.

He remembers with complete clarity the first time he'd seen Cecily. He'd thought her radiant, transcendent and so heavenly unattainable, which made her more attractive to him. He had felt so unworthy of her yet convinced that, _through_ her, he could be the man he always wanted to be: accepted and loved. He attributed nearly every joy that could never attain to her, as if she alone held the power to grant true happiness to him.

He remembers approaching her with his card, asking if he could speak with her. It had all been so very proper and so very gentlemanly, but she stared at him as if he'd offered to pleasure her right in the front parlor. How dare he sully her with his very presence. And later…those words…words repeated to him even more recently by another.

_You are beneath me._

**Can I pick 'em or what?**

Who are these women that they can so consume him? Well, to be honest with, William wasn't very much to consume. He was a wonderful son, but an incredibly poor excuse for a man. Yes he was a good man, whatever that was worth. It hadn't been worth much to Cecily.

Cecily: his porcelain goddess. His Venus. His muse. His…

He wonders if she ever really existed, or if it was simply his _idea_ of the perfect woman projected onto the cruel, heartless bitch that was the real thing. All she truly ever expressed for him was disdain. All of the niceties he'd remembered of her had been in his imagination. 

I was too...soft, too open...for her. She was hardened already and my optimism, my desire for love and joy and beauty only sickened her because she was already dead to it.

Again Spike recalls those words: _You're beneath me._ But someone else is speaking them now.

Buffy.

Cecily hated herself, her world and her circle of friends. She was miserable and so she'd made him miserable (and probably others as well.) Buffy clearly hated herself last year. She resented her circle of friends for bringing her back. She was miserable and she'd used him to feel…something…anything. And then what had she said?

_I'm using you._

Well, at least she had the decency to admit it. Spike can't imagine any admission of guilt coming from Cecily's holy mouth.

Bint.

He doesn't like the idea of comparing Buffy to Cecily, but the resemblances are there. Two women, unwilling to love, one from incapacity, one from having endured so much that she felt dead inside.

_...it's killing me._

Spike opens his eyes and stares at the pipes on the ceiling. They're new. Newer than the house. He remembers Buffy having to replace them. Remembers her annoyance at his suggestion to help. He remembers the glimmer of recognition, in her eyes, of the person inside him when he'd offered his assistance. The look she gave him before she quickly threw up the walls between them once more.

No, not like Cecily.

He remembers the first time he'd set eyes upon Drusilla. Such darkness he'd never seen before: a gothic beauty. She sang out to him with her knowing smile and captured him with her eyes. He was lost to her in an instant and any love he'd ever had for Cecily was quickly burned away by Drusilla's dark flame and the promise of an end to his suffering...his humiliation. The promise of being deflowered by the lust of the world was too enticing to turn away from. He invited her in willingly.

He remembers her...gift...and the first time that he'd opened his new, vampire eyes and looked into the night. Oh, how it glittered! It left him quivering in her arms, he was so overwhelmed. Every sense heightened, piqued, teased. He had been so blind to it all! But Dru gave him the world as it truly was meant to be seen.

His rapture had been shattered abruptly by Angelus, of course. And Spike recalls his first encounters with his grand-sire. How cold and cruel he was, yet how animated in his cruelty. He'd enjoyed torturing young William mentally, and later physically, reveling in the rape of his mind and his body: both acts equally bloody and merciless.

Angelus could jump head first into a lake of human suffering and backstroke to shore with an easy smile on his face. And William envied him.

William had given his unbeating heart to Drusilla and Angelus had sliced it up and served it right back to him piece by piece: blood dripping from his malicious grin. He has cursed William for being 'too human.' And William was ashamed.

Too human for Angelus and our lil' family, not enough of a man for anyone else.

Spike's eyes open to the ceiling. He slowly becomes aware of the pain of his bruises and lightly touches his face where Wood had been pummeling him. The wounds are healing already and the itchy skin around them is singing with pain.

He can still hear the strains of his mother's song in his ears and he allows himself to remember her now. How she loved him...really _loved_ him, like none other since. The guilt at having loved her too much to let her go echoes in his chest, a dim memory. He had thought it such a gift, the immortality, but it had taken away the very thing he'd sought to preserve. Her.

He'd killed her. Twice. But she'd forgiven him. Had he forgiven himself? Clearly not.

He's punished himself by placing the women in his life above him, as he did her. He sees, now, how he's been searching for her in every woman he'd come to love. Searching for that complete and total acceptance of everything that he is and was. What he really needed to do was accept himself. To become his own man. To stop being love's bitch.

But it's easier said than done. Wood can attest to that, surely. It's probably been easier for him to turn all of his hurt into anger and seek vengeance on the one that had taken what had never really been his to begin with: his mother. Nikki the Slayer. Because, with the Slayer, it all comes down to the Mission. Everything and everyone else is secondary. Spike had realized this at the same moment the words left his mouth back at the workroom. Ah, the irony of it. He'd been taken there to die and he'd left feeling more alive than he had in decades.

He sits up and shrugs out of the duster. Pulling off his boots, he places them on the floor next to the cot. He removes a pack of cigarettes from the pocket of his coat and lights one up, leaning his back against the cold concrete of the wall.

He closes his eyes and pushes the memories away for now. He is exhausted and he is...afraid. Of seeing her. Of knowing, definitively, her part in the plan.

His soul says: **No, she didn't have anything to do with it. Look at the way she came to your aid. She cares for you. Things are different now.**

His head says: **You're a fool**.****

He senses her before he hears her. Hears her before he sees her. Smells her fear before she enters the room.

----------------

Buffy knows he's home...well...back. She hesitates to go down there. There's no way of telling what he's thinking or feeling. Whether he blames her at all for what's transpired.

She thinks that if he'd wanted to see her, he would have come upstairs, but she knows he wouldn't have. And he was so quiet when he returned that she didn't _hear_ him so much as _feel_ him.

"What can I possibly say to him?" she asks aloud. **Damnit****, Giles. How dare he do this…decide for me.**

Her eyes close tightly and her face becomes a mask of pain and resignation as the night's events flicker in her minds' eye.

**Too far, Giles has gone too far. God! I don't have time for this petty shit. This, none of it, matters.**

Her breathing is erratic and she makes a concerted effort to calm herself down. Wearing out her threadbare carpet by pacing back and forth isn't helping, so she sits on the bed, mindlessly tapping her foot.

I can't even trust him to be around us anymore. Who's to say he won't try it again or that he won't come up with some other 'solution' for my supposed shortcomings?

She jumps back up again and resumes pacing. Finally, she makes the decision to go downstairs, turns and opens the door quickly before her fear can hold her back.

Just...it was the look that he had on his face when she found him in front of Robin's. It made her the anxious. It's a look she hadn't seen for a long time and doesn't want to see it again, not directed at her.

He was angry, yes, but it was more. Much more. The air around him screamed danger. So is he dangerous now? Isn't that what she'd asked him to be?

Need to go to him.

That's all she can think as she tiptoes down the steps with deceptive speed and reaches for the basement door. She smells the cigarette smoke. 

"Well, at least he isn't punching the walls," she attempts to assuage her fear. "And he's here...not...gone." The hair on her arms is standing upright as she opens the door. Her steps are hesitant and silent as she descends into the black.

She stops a moment at the bottom to give her senses time to adjust. The muted orange glow of his cigarette tells her where he is, but she could close her eyes and almost picture him sitting on the cot, propped up against the wall, hair mussed, shirt off maybe, his arm resting on the one bent knee as he slowly brings the cigarette to his lips.

"Something you need, _pet_?" His words cause her to jump a little, and she's glad there's no light there. There's a tightness in his voice which tells her that this will not be easy.

"I...just wanted-" she stammers.

"-to finish the job?" He says it, but there's no fire in his words. He knows, really, that she had nothing to do with the attempt on his unlife. He isn't even sure why he says it. He's angry still, yeah. Angry and disgusted. He could battle a warrior. He couldn't stand a coward. 

**Wood is a coward.**

"No!" Her voice is a little too loud. She moves closer to him, able to make out his outline against the white wall, illuminated by the tiny bit of light coming from the high window. "No." She continues softly. "I wanted to make sure...that you...were...ok."

He peers at her through the darkness, the cigarette forgotten. **Why am I doing this to her? I know she didn't-**

"I didn't know, Spike" she says softly but firmly, moving towards him. When she reaches the cot, he moves his legs and she sits on the edge.

"I know, luv." He reassures her, relaxing a little if only to relax her. She sighs audibly. Spike takes one final drag on the cigarette and stubs it out in a makeshift ashtray at his side. "Let me guess," he says, exhaling with a grunt. "Principal knew that you were with Giles and he thought he'd take advantage o' the situation, right?" He reaches over and turns on a small lamp. When she doesn't answer he turns his head to study her face for the reason.

Buffy realizes that Spike doesn't know that Giles had anything to do with it. She doesn't know whether to tell him, but in her silence she has said it already.

"Ahhh. He..._knew." His voice is low, too low, and his leans back against the wall. Her heart begins to race, and he hears it. Buffy expects him to explode, but instead he begins to laugh. It's breathy and mirthless._

"So..." he says thoughtfully, elongating the word. "The Watcher has more of the Ripper left in 'im than I gave 'im credit for, eh?" He laughs softly, shaking his head.

"He betrayed you, Spike, I don't think it's funny." She says, incensed.

"Oh no, pet," his words are deliberately slow as he looks at her. "He didn't betray me. There's no love between us." The light from the tiny lamp hits Spike just across his cheekbone. Buffy bristles at the calm menace in his gaze.

Buffy runs her hands through her hair and thinks on that. "You're right, it's me that he betrayed."

Spike tilts his head sideways, eyebrow crinkling in confusion. "How's that, luv?"

"How is that? He conspired to _kill_ you, Spike. You." She points at him, waiting for his understanding to click in.

"Uh yeah, pet, I was there." He grunts and flicks an invisible piece of offending lint from the blanket with a little too much ardor.

She pulls her legs up onto the cot and sits facing him. "He lied to me. He took me to the cemetery and started spouting off about my duty and sacrifice." She gazes into the cinderblocks of the wall for a way to organize her thoughts. Spike softens as he watches her.

"He...he kept asking me about Dawn." She resumes, her voice dropping to just above a whisper. Spike's jaw clenches at the implication of those words. He studies her. "Asking me if I'd be willing to let her go to save the world. Said I need to be a 'general' and lead the troops.

"I didn't understand why we were going through that again, Spike, I mean...we'd had that conversation _so_ many times. It didn't click, y'know?" She looks at him and he shakes his head slowly.

"I didn't understand why we were out there. And then a vamp rose and he told me to take my time killing it, all the time blabbing on and on about making difficult choices." She looks down at her fingers and pauses for so long that Spike isn't sure if she'll finish. "That's when it hit me."

She looks up at him. He stares into her and he can see it: rage. She is seething beneath the calm exterior and the fear that he'd felt when she'd entered the room was of _him_, that he'd think she was part of it.

"Buffy...don't be too hard on 'im." His words are plain but she waits a moment to see if anything follows. Something _must_ be following such an idiotic statement as that.

"Excuse me?" She glares at him, her mouth held open in incredulity.

"He was trying to do the right thing. I 'aven't been the safest thing to 'ave around 'ere lately." He drops his eyes back to the blanket, picking at it.

"You-" she's searching for the words to tell him how wrong he is. She swallows hard and tries a different approach.

"Spike...you were in trouble. Real trouble. The First has had you by the balls since you got back into town. It was using you. It's been using all of us, but you most of all. That tells me something."

"What's that, luv?"

"That it's scared of you."

Spikes laughs out loud. "Oh c'mon, luv, don't oversimplify."

"I'm not!" she retorts. "Think about it." He regards her briefly and realizes she's serious. He nods for her to continue, mostly out of curiosity, but more out of longing. He loves talking with her when she reveals how her mind works. She never used to, not before...

"Why torture you? Why not just kill you, huh?" She waits.

He shrugs. "Stupidity? Boredom?"

She suppresses a smile. "No, Spike, it's because you are a threat. You have something it's afraid of. You said that it kept appearing to you as...as-"

"As you-" he finishes for her.

"So why would it do that?"

"It was the ultimate torture, pet." He catches her eyes and holds her there for a moment. "It knew that you were the only thing that mattered to me." Buffy fights to ignore the butterflies flapping in her stomach.

"It used my...image...my voice to try to break you mentally." He nods.

"And it used the Ubie to try and break you physically."

"Don' know about that." He looks down. "It only ever hurt me enough to make me weak...and then-"

"And then the real fun began." She whispers, shuddering.  He briefly places his hand on her leg, his thumb idly caressing her skin through the cloth.

"Yeah." He removes his hand and decides to leave it at that. But she continues.

"What did it want from you?" Her voice has become soft again; it sends pleasurable chills down his spine.

Spike looked away from her for a moment, gathering his thoughts. "It wanted to me believe that you wouldn't come."

"That I would leave you there?" He nods. "What does that tell you?"

"That it wants me on its' side?"

"Maybe."

"Or that it wants us apart." He looks up at her again and their eyes meet in understanding.

"You're my strongest ally, Spike, my best warrior. You've become the one I trust the most." She pauses, looking directly into his eyes. He waits for her to continue, not wanting to interrupt this most-unexpected confession of need. "Giles almost destroyed us," she says softly. "All of us."

"Why do you place so much importance on me, pet?" His question is honest. She wants to be annoyed, but his expression is so sincere. 

He doesn't understand. _You're beneath me, Spike. I'll never be your girl._

"Spike, _I_ didn't. The First did. And if Giles weren't so blinded by his Watcher's glasses, he would see that." He offers her a small smile. She merely looks back down. "I told him that he's taught me everything that he can. I don't need him anymore."

"Yes you do, luv." She glares up at him.

"For what? I can't even trust him." Spike takes her hand and squeezes it. She's so warm. It startles him every time, her heat.

"He loves you, Buffy. He knows what insurmountable odds you're up against-"

"We." She corrects him. "We're up against the crazy odds." He nods, acquiescing.

"Ok, we. _We're_ up against something so powerful that we don' even know what it bleedin' is, Buff. Giles doesn't know what to do, so he does what he does best. He does what's sensible. He removes obvious dangers."

"So is Willow next?" Her expression doesn't change. He's a little thrown by how valid a point she has.

"I don' know what to say to that."

"There's nothing _to_ say. We're all walking on the edge here, Spike. We're _all_ battling our inner demons. It isn't for _him_ to decide who is too dangerous. I'm the Slayer. That's my job. And I don't have time for personal vendettas and revenge." He really smiles at her this time and she is taken aback at his brightness and warmth.

**He nearly lost his life tonight and here he is giving me advice on how to patch up things with his would-be killer.**

"What?" she asks.

"You." He closes his mouth, but the smile remains. "You're bloody amazing. Jus' when I think-" He lets go of her hand and withdraws from her, suddenly uncomfortable.

"What…Spike?" She leans forward to touch his hand, understanding his hesitation as a learned behavior. "Tell me." He looks at her big green eyes and cannot help but take her face in his hand, cupping her cheek. Her skin is soft and _so_ warm it seems to melt into his palm. Buffy feels the tingle from his touch travel through her body and down to her very center. She closes her eyes for a moment as her breath hitches.

"You're the Slayer." His vice is full of warmth and love. She gives him a 'duh' look and he laughs silently. "What I mean is...when I first met you, you were so uneasy in your role as the Slayer, even though you were the strongest I'd ever seen. And over the years, I've watched you grow into it and thought 'yeah, she's the Slayer now.' And then you'd grow a little more and I'd say 'no no no, _now_ she's the Slayer.'"

She smiles again, instinctively leaning into his touch a little more. "And now?" Her heart is full of careful hope. She wants him to understand what she's feeling. She wants him to open up again.

His hand, however, drops from her face after a final caress and he studies her for a moment. "Now you're _the_ Slayer. The Slayer of all slayers." She shrugs and looks away to cover the look of disappointment at the loss of contact.

"Maybe."

"No, no maybes. You're It. And you're going to save the world - again."

She turns her head back to him. "You have so much faith in me, Spike."

"And you have so little." They both laugh softly. "Now Giles-"

She groans, he tilts his head down to catch her eyes. "_Giles_ loves you and he certainly doesn' want the world to end. 'e did what he thought was best for everyone concerned. Now, if you disagree-"

"If?" She looks back into the wall.

"If you disagree, you need to put 'im in his place, yeah? But," he turns her head back, by her chin, to look her in the eye. "Don't push him away, luv. You need him."

She contemplates this for a few moments and he takes his hand away again but not before slowly brushing his thumb across her lower lip. That simple movement sends ripples through her. Her eyes glaze over as they land on his mouth, the desire stirring deep inside. Spike is lost in her for a moment. His eyes are drinking her in. He inhales the intoxicating cocktail of her scent. His longing for her is almost too much for him to bear.

_Drowning in you Summers. Drowning._

He catches himself and instantly stiffens all over, withdrawing from her again. She frowns a little, wondering the cause for such an adverse reaction. She noticed the look that he'd just given her. She recognized it: W a n t.

"Just talk to him..._after_ you've calmed down." He finishes softly, recovering his composure. She looks into his eyes, which are now midnight blue yet still burn brightly in the dark room, and tries to remember her world before Spike came into it. It seems as if he's always been there.

"Ok," she says barely above a whisper. He smiles.

"It's late, luv." He rises from the cot and picks up his coat, folding it and putting it on a crate by the wall. "You should get some sleep." Buffy also rises and brushes her hands down her pants.

"You're sure you're ok?" She dreads going upstairs alone, but he's obviously come to some decision about 'them.' It isn't her right to press the issue. She just wishes…

"Ta, luv. Right as rain." He smiles warmly at her.

"What _does_ that mean, anyway." She asks, playfully crossing her arms. He just smiles again and turns from her partially. "Alright…g'night." She reluctantly ascends the steps.

"'Night, luv." When he hears the basement door close behind her, Spike's shoulders sag. He gingerly removes his clothes. The bruises send lightening bolts of pain through his body and his abated anger returns, but he ignores it.

**'No time for vendettas' is right. We've a war to win.**

He climbs into bed, folding his hands behind his head. He reaches into his mind for the one perfect night he's had in his whole miserable existence. He doesn't have too far to travel. It is that night, not so long ago, when he and Buffy held each other in their arms, kissing, gazing into one another's souls.

It's only in these wee hours that he'll allow himself to indulge this way. Hell, he figure he's earned it after today. Usually he has to fantasize about Buffy's tenderness. Tonight he has a memory of it.

He closes his eyes and prays for sleep.

---------------------

Buffy climbs into bed and closes her eyes. She tries to remember that perfect night, such a short while ago...the way that Spike had held her. The way he'd looked at her as if he finally knew how she felt. She'd tried to tell him, finally.

And I failed miserably.

A tear slips out of the corner of her eye and she wipes it away. It's times like these when she misses Joyce the most. She wishes she could climb into bed with her and babble about life's little cruelties. Ask her for some of that motherly advice she so desperately needed. Wishes she were there to tell her it would all be okay, in the end.

No time for a pity party. We've got to save the world - again. And as long as we're still friends and he's at my side, we can do this. Together, all of us, we can do anything we put our minds to. That's what mom would say.

She exhales deeply and prays for sleep, but she knows it won't come.

"I wish you were here, mom."

"I am here, sweetheart." A voice says from the darkness.

TBC


	17. Nothing Achieving

**Title:** Nothing Achieving (Chapter 17 of Don't Stop the Dance) 

Giles and Wood have a little chat.

**Author:** Xionin

**Rating:** PG-13 [this chapter]

**Pairing:** Buffy/Spike. Other major characters included.

**Feedback:** Pretty please!

Pin – I got your angst right here. I promise it will be a fun ride.  Albie – Your words melt my heart. Thank you so very much.  Suni – I couldn't agree with you more. I do believe that Buffy loves Spike, but I don't think she is capable of the kind of love he is offering her...not yet, anyway. She needs to finish baking first. ;^]

**Disclaimer:** I'm so mad at Joss right now. He used up the last of the toothpaste and just left me and empty tube.  Doesn't he realize how inconsiderate that is? I know what I'll do; I'll use up all of his Spike just to spite him. So there!

**Thank Yous:** Miss Kitty a/k/a Super Beta! [soooo glad you're back]

Enjoy! ~Xionin  

Nothing Achieving

Motel rooms have a unique scent in the United States.

It's a combination of the smell the sheets have from the linen service, the leftover residue from the expelled air of the vacuum that housekeeping uses, the sickeningly sweet industrial air freshener in the bathroom and years upon years of human occupancy and....activity....in the room veiled by feeble attempts at sanitization.

Giles doesn't notice any of this though, as he sits on the edge of the firm mattress clutching a small glass of brandy. The only light in the room is the one by the door that he'd turned on when he walked in. The only noises are coming from outside as cars pass by on the nearby road. Headlights throw accusatory shadows across the pale paisley walls every 30 seconds or so. More than enough time for Giles to play judge and jury to himself over and over and pass down the differing sentences.

**Damn.**

It's a thought not fueled by anger, but rather by shame. Giles is ashamed that he allowed his fear and desperation to get the better of him. How had he allowed Wood to convince him to deceive his Slayer? Of course he sympathized with the man over the loss of his mother. And his mother, Nikki Wood, had been a legendary Slayer. Spike was certainly guilty of the crime, but...

**Is Spike the same being that killed Nikki Wood?**

"Oh God." Giles whispers the phrase as if it will lift the weight of trepidation from his chest. He swallows a mouthful of the brown liquid, willing it to burn away the sickness he feels inside.

"Spike has..." **a soul. He cannot even allow himself to say it out loud. It's something that he's barely been able to comprehend. He'd thought, at first, that it was a ruse to get back into Buffy's good graces but the changes are unmistakable. Spike has a soul. Everything that Giles knows from the earliest of his Watcher training to his experience with the only other ensouled vampire he's encountered, Angel, tells him that the soul makes all the difference in the world.**

"Spike has a soul. He _can't be held responsible for..." He gets up off the bed and walks over to the desk where the bottle of alcohol sits glistening in the ambient light. He sets his glass down beside it and is tempted to refill it. Several times._

"Why do I hold him responsible for everything the demon did?" He pulls out the chair and sits facing the window, watching the world pass by in the yellow street lamps. He exhales deeply and rests on the back of the chair. "It's because he hurt Buffy."

Buffy never told him everything that had happened between them, but he knew. Spike had hurt her. He also knew that Buffy hadn't been innocent in their...relationship. He had been so blind to it all, that's what frustrates him the most. He hadn't been there, leaving Sunnydale because he thought she needed to stand on her own. He loves her so very much and it killed him to leave her, but he'd thought it best.

But now he watches every move that they make. Every glance. Every accidental touch. Even before she'd admitted to caring for the vampire, he'd seen it. She'd dismissed keeping him around as just giving Spike a chance to redeem himself, but Giles knows it is more. He's tried to warn her, but warning Buffy against something is like giving her carte blanche to charge straight into whatever you're attempting to shield her from.

**Perhaps a little reverse psychology would have worked with her.** He chuckles mirthlessly, filling the glass and taking a deep draft.

_I think you've taught me all I need to know._

Those words stung him more than any phrase he'd ever heard. She felt betrayed. **Of course she does. He knew that she would be upset, livid even, but he'd hoped that she would see reason. Hoped that she could understand that he had done what he thought was best. What he hadn't accounted for was Wood's failure. Then again, thank God for his ineptness. If the plan had succeeded, who knows what state Buffy would be in to lead them into battle with the First. Liability or no, Buffy only sees Spike as an asset. Wood doesn't care about that, however. Was the man even still alive?**

**Oh God!**

Giles jumps up and grabs his jacket, searching through the pockets for the piece of paper with Wood's address on it. Snatching up his room key he heads out the door, jumping into the first cab that passes.

-------------

When he arrives outside Wood's place, he hesitates. He doesn't want to know, suddenly. Dead or alive, it could change things. If Wood is dead then Spike will have to go down, no matter what Buffy thinks. And she would most likely view Wood's murder as self-defense, since Spike had been lured here.

If Wood is alive it could mean something entirely different.

Giles rings the doorbell. There's no answer after half a minute or so. He rings it again. Slowly the door opens. Wood is standing in a t-shirt and sweats. He is battered. One eye is swollen shut and the other is merely a slit. There's a cut on his lip and a small bandage over his left eye.

"Good lord." Giles mutters.

"Yeah." Wood steps back and allows the older man entrance. "Something like that."

Giles steps through the door and Wood closes it behind him. They move silently to the middle of the room, Giles watching the young man's slow movements. Wood gestures for Giles to sit.

"I'd offer you something to drink, but..." he falters, lowering himself gingerly into a chair filled with various pillows.

Giles raises an eyebrow. "Err, n-no thanks. I understand." He stares at the pillows.

"They soften the weight on the bruises." Wood winces as he finally settles into the chair.

"Ah, I see." Giles sits on the couch, nervously looking around. "Glad to see you're still alive, although I'm not sure _why_ or _how. Did Buffy...I mean...did she-"_

"Save me?" Wood's lips curl into a sardonic smile.

"Uhh...yes." Giles' confusion at the man's expression tilts his head.

"No. The Slayer didn't rush to my rescue." Wood says bitterly. "Spike _spared me."_

Giles' eyebrows arch. "Beg your pardon?"

"That's as good a word as any." Wood's laugh turns into a cough. He reaches for a nearby glass and takes a sip. "He _pardoned_ me. Said he would let me live because he killed my mother."

Giles sits in silence for a few moments. Spike spared his life?

"I...I see," he says quietly, contemplating the notion of a merciful Spike.

"Yeah, but that's not the best part." Wood lays his head back on a pillow.

"And er, what would that be?" Giles' head hurts from thinking. **Spike spared a human life after he'd been trapped and provoked.**

"Nah. The best part was Buffy." Wood waits

"Buffy? What happened with Buffy?" Giles straightens up on the couch, moving to the edge.

"Well, let's see, she basically told me that she would let her vampire kill me if I go after him again." He coughs another laugh.

Giles is stunned speechless. Good heavens! **Wait, no...it makes sense. Buffy doesn't think that Spike is expendable. But to allow him to kill...that's...that's just...**

"She said," Wood continues. "She said that the _mission_ comes first and that she doesn't have time for vendettas." Both men think on that for a few moments. "She sounded a lot like my mom, or at least I think she did. It's been so long, that I'm not sure I even remember my mother as she actually was or if I just remember her as an invention of my own imagination." He sits up, with much effort, and faces Giles.

"I got quite a lesson from Spike." He looks off as if searching for something.

"How so?" Giles leans his arms on his legs, drumming his fingertips together trying to fit the pieces together in his head.

"He gave me his theory on Slayers. Said they're warriors and that nothing but the mission matters to them, no matter how much..." Wood broke off there.

"How much what?" Giles' curiosity is piqued. Spike with insight on the mind of the Slayer? How presumptuous.

"He said the Slayer can never put those she loves before the mission. Said my mother chose the mission over me, but I don't think that's what he was thinking about at the time. I think he was talking about him and Buffy."

Giles sets his jaw and drops his eyes from Wood's. **Spike sparing life when it's laid out before him on a platter? Spike espousing Slayer logic?**

"Tell me the truth." Wood says suddenly. "What is it between Buffy and Spike?" He levels his gaze at the Watcher who slowly returns to it. The two men stare at each other for a few moments before Giles speaks.

"I...I wish I could say I didn't know. But I do...know...now." He sinks back into the sofa and removes his glasses, closing his eyes. Robin Wood waits for him to continue.

"There's a...history between the two. I-I don't know everything, but I do know that it was sexual and...violent...on both sides. Buffy never told me the details, but I'm not an idiot. I worked it out. Spike nearly did something unspeakable. But here is where I get utterly lost." He sits up, replacing his glasses and turns to Robin. "Spike went to Africa-"

"To get a soul, I heard that song already." Robin doesn't mask the bitterness in his voice.

"Buffy told you...of course she did. She seems...proud of it...of him." Giles stares at the carpeting. Robin snorts. "She's...there's something between them. A connection, if you will. It's...very strong. She depends on him...and it's more than just an ally in this war. She...they..."

"I've seen it." Robin interrupts. Giles looks up at him. "In the basement when we rescued her friend...whats-his-name..."

"Xander" Giles offers.

"Yeah...we got there just in time. Spike-" each time he says the name there's a hitch in his breath, as if saying it causes him physical pain. "Spike came to the restaurant..."

"Yes, and I don't know how he found you. He said he could track her through her scent, which I've known vampires to do, but not across such great distances and not with all of the smells of a city to mask her trail." Giles slips into watcher-mode for a moment as he tries to process that bit of information.

"Yeah, well, he found her. We went to the school, rescued Xander." He stops to remember. "I cut him down while Buffy and Spike fought the demon girl. That's when I first realized _what he was." Anger flashes through him momentarily. "Spike got thrown against the wall. Buffy killed the demon...and...instead of coming to her friend's side..." He looks at Giles._

"Buffy went to Spike first." Giles confirms.

"Yeah. I couldn't believe it. But then I saw it...the connection you're talking abut. It made me wanna throw up. How could you have let this happen? You're her Watcher for Christ's sake!" Wood's body tenses up as he confronts the man across from him. It only lasts a few moments as his energy is spent. He sags back into the cushions.

Giles lowers his head and begins to laugh. He leans back into the couch and lays his head back once more. "If you only knew..." He turns his head towards Wood again, finding his eyes. "Buffy is...she's her own Watcher. I've never been more than a glorified researcher."

"You're her Watcher, man, you should have kept her in line. Or at least taught her that fucking vampires is not in her job description." There's venom in his words, but not energy to back them up. Giles sits up suddenly, glaring at the man.

"Don't. You. Ever." He struggles to contain his rage which he knows is misdirected. "Buffy is the best Slayer the Council has ever seen. Her methods are unorthodox because _she is unorthodox. She is...different. From me. From you. From your mother. I've learned a great deal simply by watching her._

"True, I haven't always approved of her methods. Quite often she scares the piss out of me with her antics, but I have always trusted her." He pauses to think about that.

"Until now." Wood says quietly.

"Until now." Giles lets go of a breath he'd been holding. "Oh...oh God." He closes his eyes and his shoulders sag, defeated.

"So 'why now?' Is that what you're asking yourself?" Wood's voice remains low.

"Yes, precisely. Why now? I don't trust Spike, but she does. I just cannot help but feel that their...relationship...is clouding her judgment. And the trigger-"

"No longer works." Wood interjects.

"What do you mean?" Giles looks at Wood perplexed.

"The trigger was broken...during..." Wood declines to tell the Watcher exactly how it was deactivated. "It's just...gone. It's gone. Not a threat anymore."

Giles is stunned but he doesn't comment. "You see...there was another...she had another relationship of which I strongly disapproved. They were...very much in love, but she was so young. He was...another...vampire." Wood reacts audibly, but Giles continues.

"He was also ensouled. He was fighting for good. Then...something...happened and he lost his soul. He turned against her and everyone she loved was endangered. Angel with the soul cared for her. Without the soul, Angelus was a monster.

"We...we were able to restore it...the soul...eventually but it meant that they could never be together. He left...went to LA. He still fights the good fight down there. She was so young...so very much in love. I thought she would crumble, but she moved on."

"You almost sound as if you believe vampires are even capable of love." Wood says, a touch of disbelief in his voice.

"Well, I wouldn't have believed it before I saw it in Angel." Giles pinches the bridge of his nose. "He made her very happy, while it lasted. Fought beside her. Believe me, when it went wrong it went very, _very_ wrong. But when it was right...

"I haven't seen that look in her eyes since then. Only...sometimes, when she thinks no one's watching her...I see it." His voice lowers to almost a whisper.

"You think she's in love with him. Spike." Wood merely watches the older man, curious.

"I think...I think she very well may be, though she doesn't know it. And she would probably deny it. She holds every one of her relationships up in comparison to what she had with Angel. Theirs was doomed from the start, which I'm sure made it all the more intense. And you know...first love." Wood nods.

"But this connection that she has with Spike. I've never seen anything like it. It's...well it's frightening beyond reason."

"So you don't approve?" Wood asks, eyeing the Watcher.

"Hell no! Of course not. It's just...something that Spike said once." He drifts off in thought.

"Which was?" Wood presses.

"Well...er...with Angel his main concern, when he left, was that Buffy have a normal life. Well, as normal as is possible for a Slayer, I suppose. But he wanted her to find a nice young man, preferably human, and have a healthy loving relationship. He didn't want to stand in the way. I suppose he really did care for her. I saw what leaving her was doing to him, but he left.

"But Spike...Spike's stance is that Buffy is the Slayer, that she'll never have a normal life and that she should be afforded whatever happiness she can grasp because the only guarantee that she has is a early death."

"Nice." Wood snorts.

"Yes, quite." Giles nods in agreement. "Yet...not entirely dismissible. True, Spike was really only laying the groundwork for himself, but what he said does have a grain of truth in it. Buffy will, in all likelihood, die very young. She may not even make it out of this battle with the First. She and Spike share...something...no matter how reprehensible we may find it. It obviously gives her strength.

"So imagine how I feel having almost removed that source of happiness...of strength...from her?" He looks up at Wood who stares at him impassively.

"I hope you don't expect me to buy the party line." Robin crosses his hands across his chest, fingers lacing.

"No. Of course not." Giles sits forward, facing Robin directly. "However I do think it would be wise for you to lay aside your...issues...with Spike until we've reached the other side of this war. After that..." He trails off to let Wood interpret what he will.

"Understood. And in the meantime?"

"In the meantime, I think it would be best if you lay low for a while. Buffy is...very upset...and I think she'll need time to settle down. She knows we need you, though, so it's only a matter of time. She's very focused these days. She won't let personal issues detract her."

"Unless the personal issue is Spike." Wood counters.

"Ah, well..." with that, Giles rises and heads towards the door. He gestures for Wood to remain in his chair. "I'll see myself out. Keep in mind what I've told you."

"How could I forget it?" Wood attempts a smile.

"Yes, quite." Giles opens the door and steps through, closing it behind him.

---------

Giles swipes the key to his motel room and is greeted by the sight of the bottle of brandy glittering in invitation. His head is already swimming from the events of the evening and the information he's learned from Wood, so he forgoes the alcohol for the bed.

He places his jacket on the back of the chair and unbuttons his shirt absentmindedly, kicking his shoes off next to the desk. He slips out of his trousers and stands in stocking feet with his t-shirt and boxers on. He places his glasses on the nightstand and plops down on the unturned bed. Staring up at the ceiling, he tried to make sense of it all.

**Spike is no longer triggered. Spike spared Wood. Buffy defended Spike. Spike has a soul. Buffy and Spike are connected. Buffy has turned me away.**

_I think you've taught me all I need to know._

The look in her eyes. He'd seen it once before, when she'd found out his role in her "test." He'd hoped to never see it again, but he has no one to blame but himself.

He has placed a wedge between himself and his Slayer once more. By acting on what he thought was best, he may have damaged their relationship irreparably.

**And what has it achieved**? He thinks to himself as the sleep won't come.

**Nothing.**

TBC

I need to watch 'Dirty Girls' a few more times before I finish the scenes between 'Lies...' and it.

Still don't understand why Dawn and the Scoobies overreacted and threw Buffy out of the house. It seemed a little over-the-top for me.

Anyhoo...til next time.

X


	18. Visions of the Night

**Title:** Visions of the Night (Chapter 18 of Don't Stop the Dance) 

My last interlude before 'Dirty Girls'

**Author:** Xionin

**Rating:** PG-13 [this chapter, next chapter R begins]

**Pairing:** Buffy/Spike. Other major characters included.

**Feedback:** Pretty please! Is anyone even still reading this thing? ;]

**Disclaimer:** ...6.7.8.9.10. Come out, come out wherever you are! Joss? Marti? Anyone?

Hey, where'd everybody go? "Dear Xionin, We were bored with our toys. You can take whatever you want and give the rest to Goodwill. Love ME" Cool!

**Thank Yous:** Miss Kitty a/k/a Wunder Beta! Dema for finally reading my work.

Enjoy! ~Xionin  

Visions of the Night

Buffy's tossing and turning, which is more than what she gets most nights. It means she's dreaming. Usually she catches quick catnaps before her mind snaps back to alertness and she tries to strategize ways of winning this increasingly deadly war. She is mumbling in her sleep.

**Mom?**

She is running through thick foliage. Enormous leaves of greenery slap at her face, her arms, her thighs. Dressed in thin pajama bottoms with a tank top, her feet are bare. She is running with her hands in front of her face to push the branches and leaves out of the way, squinting her eyes as the ones she misses sting her.

**Mom!**

She comes to a clearing of pristine white beach. The water at the edge is jewel-tones of blue and green. The sun peeks over the humungous palm trees but is high enough in the sky to offer warmth without the burn. Buffy slows her pace as she approaches lands' end. She turns 360 degrees, searching for any other sign of life. There is no one. She turns back to the water, scanning the horizon which is undisturbed.

_Hello sweetheart._

Buffy spins in the direction of the voice. Her mother is standing 5 feet or so from her in the sand. She is barefoot and wearing a light yellow sundress with a big floppy straw hat.

**Mom.**

Buffy rushes into her mother's open arms which surround her. Joyce's hands caress her daughter's hair and back, whispering soothing words into the ear of the woman that has dissolved into a young girl in a matter of seconds.

_Shhhh. Sweetie, it's all right. I'm here._

**Mom...m-mom.**

_Shhhhh._

The two women rock back and forth in their embrace. Slowly, Buffy pulls back to look her mother in the eye. Joyce smoothes the stray hairs back from her forehead and smiles.

_My sweet girl._

Buffy smiles brightly at the endearment and she kisses her mother cheeks.

**I miss you so much, mom.**

_I know you do honey, I know you do. But I'm with you. Everyday, I'm with you._

**It' so hard, mom. I-it's...**

_Shhhhh._

Joyce gently embraces Buffy once more and guides her to the edge of the surf. The two women sit in the sand just out of the reach of the encroaching waves. Buffy rests her head on her mother's shoulder. They sit in silence for a few moments.

**Mom?**

_Yes dear?_

**Will I be able to do this? Will I be able to win this time?**

_Yes, sweetheart, you almost have everything you need._

**Almost?**

She looks up at her mother's serene face as she gazes out at the water.

_There are some things you are still finding out. But you're almost there._

She turns to look at Buffy and takes her daughter's hands into her own.

_You are going to be tested, Buffy. Tempted. Don't give in. You will know what is right and what is true._

_Don't let IT deceive you. Don't let it make you doubt yourself. Protect yourself and the ones you love._

_They may not always understand, but they will depend on you as never before._

**Tell me what to do, mom. I can't do this alone.**

Buffy's brow furrows with fear. She clings to her mother's hands.

_You're not alone, Buffy._

**But Giles and the others-**

_Not them._

Buffy's eyes widen in realization.

**I was right.**

_Yes. You were right all along. Just follow it through._

The two sit in silence at the sky turns various shades of orange and pink and then finally purple and blue. Buffy lies down with her head in her mother's lap. Joyce strokes her daughter blonde locks, lulling her to sleep. As the first three stars appear in the evening sky, Joyce slowly extricates herself from her daughter's slumbering form. She bends over her ear before rising and whispers into it, parting with a kiss.

_Make him understand, my darling. Tell him how you feel._

_It all comes down to Love._

Joyce walks into the forest leaving Buffy on the shore.

--------

She knocks softly on the door. When no one answers, Dawn enters her sister's room to find her sound asleep. Dawn can't remember the last time Buffy had slept so deeply. She is reluctant to wake her but knows that she would want the news. Quietly and slowly she lowers herself on the bed next to her sister. She drapes and arm across her waist and studies the smooth features of her face. She looks so peaceful. She hasn't seen _this_ Buffy in ages. Lately, her older sister has more resembled a hardened war general than the vibrant woman she'd hoped to take after one day.

Dawn watches as, in her dreaming, different emotions play out across her sister's face. Her lips are moving slightly, as if in conversation. Small sounds escape from her throat. Dawn gently shakes her.

"Buuuu-ffyyyy. Buffy, wake up." She doesn't really want to wake her. Laying here beside her, feeling the softness and warmth, it's not something that Dawn has had a lot of lately. She misses touching and holding. Joyce used to hold her all the time. And she and Buffy used to cuddle up together and watch movies on the couch when she was little. Not that any of that actually happened, but the monks were nice enough to put the memories there. Dawn has come to accept those memories as reality, no longer distinguishing between experiences.

"C'mon, Buffy. Time to get up. Rise and shine." Buffy stirs a little, as her brow knits.

"Mmmmm 5 more minutes." She mumbles, pulling Dawn's arm tighter around her. Dawn smiles and closes her eyes, inhaling the faint vanilla smell of the blonde's hair.

**She can still manage to smell girly while saving the world.**

A small smile appears on her lips. After a few more moments, Dawn tries again to rouse her slumbering sister.

"C'mon sleepyhead. We've got major evil at the door waiting for an ass-whoopin." Dawn deliberately uses the phrase to get her sister's attention. She smirks in her closed face.

"Unnngh. Sleep...need sleep." Despite the protests, Buffy's eyes slowly open. She blinks a few times to adjust to the closeness of the face across from her. "Dawn?"

"Hey." Dawn smiles, but it quickly dissipates as Buffy extracts herself from her sister's embrace to sit up.

"Wh-what time is it?" Buffy rubs the sleep out of her eyes and looks around for her alarm clock.

"It's around 11." Dawn's smile returns. She's happy that Buffy was able to get some sleep. Something big happened last night. She doesn't know what, exactly, but she'd heard Buffy and Giles in the hall.

"Oh geez. I must have really passed out when I got back." Buffy looks over at Dawn as if seeing her for the first time. "Oh hey...how are you? Are you all right?" She checks over the superficial wounds Dawn had sustained during Spike's detriggering session.

"I'm okay." Dawn waves her sister's hand away from the bandage over her eye. Secretly she is thrilled at Buffy's concern. They haven't been very close lately and she's wondered if she'd even known she was still in the house, what with all of the Potentials running around. "I didn't want to wake you, but Willow called."

"Willow?" Buffy slips out from under the covers and grabs a brush from her dresser.

"Yeah. She said to tell you that she's coming home tonight...and..." Dawn trails off.

"And?" Buffy turns around to her sister expectantly, brushing her hair with harsh strokes.

"She's bringing Faith." Dawn does little to hide the displeasure at this part of her message. Picking up on it, Buffy puts the brush down and rounds the bed to sit next to her young sibling.

"I know how you feel, Dawnie. I'm not far behind ya, there. We do need her here, though. We're going to need all the help we can get with this thing." Buffy brushes a loose strand of hair behind Dawn's ear. She thinks back on how life was for her at that age and chastises herself for not being able to give some of that innocence to the young girl.

"I know." Dawn sighs and Buffy squeezes her shoulder. "It doesn't mean I have to like it." Buffy places her hand on her sister's knee and pats it.

"So...where is everyone, it's awfully quiet in this house for a Sunday morning." Buffy jumps up and goes over to her closet.

"Well, most of the girls are out back working with Kennedy. Xander is fixing the leaky disposal. It was getting a little smelly under the kitchen sink." She turns up her nose, though Buffy isn't looking. "Giles said he'd be over later on...he had something to take care of." Dawn notices the stiffness that appears in Buffy's body at the mention of his name.

"Ok." Buffy replies, her back still turned. "And...uh...Spike? Have you seen him?"

"As far as I know, he's still in the basement." She mutters.

Buffy turns to face her sister. "He's sorry, y'know. He was really worried about you."

Dawn shrugs. She's not angry with the blonde vampire, but since he came back with his soul he's been so distant. It could be because she'd threatened to light him on fire, but he knew she was only looking out for Buffy. She knows he'd never hurt Buffy now, not willingly. Except...

"Did the stone thingy work? Y'know...to get rid of Spike's trigger?" Buffy met the curiously hopeful eyes of her sister. She crossed over and sat beside her on the bed.

"Sorta. I mean...yeah, he's detriggered." Buffy is reluctant to go into the details of the previous night.

"Oh? Well...that's of the good, isn't it? I mean the First can't use Spike as it's bitch anymore, right?"

"Dawn!" Buffy's face is a mask of parental outrage.

"Hey, I'm just saying!" Dawn's giggling brings Buffy down off her high horse. It's been too long since she'd heard the teen's girlish laughter. Way too long. And even longer since Dawn had shown any friendly concern for Spike...particularly considering their last conversation on the subject.

Buffy rises from the bed and reaches over to close her bedroom door. She turns back to the brunette, he mouth open to speak.

"What's up Buffy? With the face of doom?"

"Oh...no-no...i-it's not the face of doom. No doom face here...it's just..." Dawn pulls her sister back to the bed.

"C'mon, Buffy, spill. It's been a while since we've had a heart-to-heart." Buffy's eyes meet Dawn's and there is a silent apology in them. Dawn nods and Buffy exhales deeply before jumping into what's weighing on her mind.

"Dawn...how do you...feel...about Spike?" Dawn's eyes widen a little, and then she searches the floor for the right words.

"I...Ok, I guess. I mean-" she twists the edge of the sheet between her hands. "I was scared...before. When he was so...out of control...so unpredictable." She is reluctant to let Buffy know just how uncomfortable she'd been having him in the house. When she'd learned he was killing again, albeit unwillingly, she'd starting sleeping with stakes under her pillow.

"Dawn, you know I would never have had him here if I thought he was a real threat." Buffy tries to meet her sister's eyes, but Dawn avoids them.

"I-I-I know, Buff. I know. It's just..." She falters and turns away a bit.

"What?" Buffy senses her apprehension.

"Spike was my friend. He cared for me. He cared for you too. And then he...he hurt you." She trails off.

"And you think he is going to hurt you too?" Dawn simply nods.

Buffy sighs and puts her arms around her sister's shoulders. She doesn't know how to explain the trust she has in Spike. It isn't as simple as soul or no-soul.

"Buffy?"

"Yeah?"

"I asked you before...the other day..."

"Yeah." Buffy knows what's coming next.

"Do you?" Dawn turns her face to her sister, her eyes confused.

Buffy doesn't answer right away. She isn't sure _how_ to answer. Everyone keeps asking her the same question and she doesn't know how to answer it. Yes. She loves him. But how? And how much? To what extent? Is she-

"I love him too..." Dawn reads the thoughts in her sister's eyes. "...and I miss him. He's right here and I miss him. I think maybe...maybe he doesn't..." Tears form in her blue eyes. Buffy turns to face her sister and she takes her round face in her hands, stroking her cheeks with the pads of her thumbs.

"Oh he loves you, Dawn. I think he's feeling the same thing you are. He's afraid that, by hurting me last year, he's lost you forever." Dawn's eyes close and the tears slip. Buffy pulls her sister into her arms.

"Giles tried to kill Spike, didn't he?" Dawn's voice is so soft, Buffy has to strain to hear her, but she does. She pulls her sister back and looks into her face.

"Where did you hear that?" Buffy is shocked.

"From you." Dawn does nothing to mask her eavesdropping. "Last night. I know everyone thought I was out of it, but I wasn't. I heard you. You said Wood failed. You meant the principal, didn't you. I see how he looks at Spike. He hates him. A lot of people around here hate him. They want to see him dead just because he's a vamp or because they don't approve of you two."

Dawn's face takes on the maturity of someone twice her age. As she speaks, her voice doesn't falter. Buffy is taken aback at the powerful intelligence held in her sister's slim frame. She realizes that this is young woman before her, no longer a little girl. She is so overwhelmed by the sadness of that simple fact that a lump forms in the back of her throat as she fights back her own tears.

"They don't trust you, Buffy. They don't trust Spike. I don't like it. These people are strangers...strangers in _our_ house. They come in here looking for protection and then they act like they _own this place. Like they own __you. I. Don't. Like. It." Anger has seeped into her voice, but she stares calmly at her sister._

"Dawn-" Buffy shares her sister's dislike with the situation, but she understands that everyone needs to stand unified if they are to succeed. "It..._this...is an unbearable situation, but I promise it will get better soon. I promise. Trust me, ok?" Dawn nods. Her cheeks are flush, but she is calming down. "You watch my back, I'll watch yours...and we'll both watch Spike's, because he's watching ours. Deal?"_

"Deal" Dawn offers a small smile.

"And Dawn?" The younger Summers sister looks up into Buffy's hazel eyes. "You need to tell Spike how you feel. Before..."

"Ok, Buffy. I will." Dawn hugs her sister and stands up to leave the room. When she reaches the door, she turns to face her again. "By the way, Buffy...that goes for you too." She smiles. Buffy smiles and nods. Dawn exits quietly into the hall, closing the door behind her.

---------

Spike is screaming. Not really, but in his dream he is screaming.

**Noooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo!**

Buffy dies again. Again he is too late to save her. And Dawn's gone too this time, her tiny body broken like a fallen swallow, crushed under an invisible force. He is pinned in place while Angelus dances with the First who has taken the form of his beloved. His Buffy. Beside him, Willow places a hand on his shoulder.

_You can only watch._

He weeps. He weeps for his girls. His Buffy and his Dawn. Angelus turns to him and grins, fangs dripping with the Slayer's blood as he waltzes with the First. The tears are never-ending. Willow is still talking to him.

_I'm sorry I had to show you._

Something soft touches his cheek and his lips. Spike jerks awake and seizes whatever is in front of him. He is startled to find Buffy's forearms in his grasp and immediately loosens his grip.

"Buffy?" His voice is raspy from anguished sleep and he blinks to clear the remnants of his dream from his eyes. Buffy removes her arms from his hands and resumes wiping the tears from his face. She smiles sadly.

"You were calling my name."

Spike's response is to crush her to him. Confusing relationship-be-damned, he holds her to him and cradles her head in his hands. His fingers entangle themselves in her hair. She responds by pulling him closer to her. One hand splays across his back while the other lazily traces circles at the nape of his neck. He is breathing unnecessarily ragged breath, exhaling with her name on his lips.

Buffy leans back to look into his tear-filled eyes. "Bad dreams?" She gives him a tiny smile as she takes one hand and wipes more of the salty liquid from his face. He stares into her as if he's afraid she's going to disappear before his eyes.

"Ah, luv." He presses his forehead to hers and closes his eyes. She studies his mouth.

**If I just lean in...and kiss him.**

"I'm sorry." Spike whispers. "I 'ope I didn't give you too much of a fright, grabbin' you like that." He releases her head from his hands before she has a chance to act on her thought.

"S'ok" she whispers, wanting desperately to melt into his arms. Spike lays back down and brings the palms of his hands to his eyes.

"Wow...remind me never t' go to bed sober again." He laughs. Buffy chuckles a bit and gets up off the cot. Spike sits up and swings his legs over the edge, placing his feet on the floor. He is naked from the waist up, but has learned _not to sleep nude in a house full of hormonal teenaged girls. He stands up and tightens the drawstring on his black sweatpants._

Buffy has her back to him and is folding laundry over the dryer. "Spike...I wanted to talk to you."

He pads over to her, stretching along the way, until he's standing a few feet behind. Knowing he's partially dressed, Buffy refuses to turn around. She feigns fascination in a particular pair of socks.

"S'up, Slayer?"

"It's about Dawn." She tosses the pair into the basket.

"She alright? Din't 'urt Niblet too much, did I?" Spike's voice shows more than a touch of concern.

"No. No...she's fine. It's...she misses you." Spike steps over to the Slayer and tries to catch her gaze. When she finally looks up, he smiles.

"Yeah? Well...I miss 'er too. Din't think she wanted to 'ave anythin' to do with me after....everything." His eyes are sad. Buffy smiles up at him, which catches him off guard. Their eyes lock. He finds himself suddenly lost in her gaze. Their bodies are drifting together as if pulled magnetically.

Buffy's eyes drift from his down to his mouth and back as she finds his eyes doing the same. Goosebumps erupt from her skin, a direct result from his proximity and the promise it brings. Both of them tilt their heads simultaneously as they move closer together centimeter by centimeter. Buffy instinctively darts her tongue across her lips to wet them. Spike's eyes catch the motion and are immediately clouded with the lust he's been holding back from her.

The items in Buffy's hands fall forgotten to the floor as she steps into him. Her hands shake as she reaches towards his chest. Spike can feel her breathe across his lips as his eyes drift close and he lowers his head. There is an electrical discharge just before their mouths fuse together.

Suddenly the basement disappears for them. Soft, warm arms encircle his waist. Fingers move deftly through her hair. Their tongues are battling for more...more contact...more of the delicious sensation that is each other. Spike slowly backs Buffy into the dryer as his hands move down her body. Her breath is ragged as the kiss deepens. All of the pent up passion that neither one of them had been aware existed in the other is pouring out.

His hands blaze icy trails across a sliver of exposed skin across her stomach. His thumbs graze the underside of her breasts through the thin cotton fabric of her shirt. Buffy gasps at the contact and deepens the kiss even more, subconsciously grinding her hips into his obvious arousal. A small moan escapes her mouth and travels to the back of his throat where it is answered in an echo of his own. Buffy raises her leg over his thigh and he sinks further into her body, overwhelmed by the heat he can feel through the denim of her jeans. He wraps his arms around her pulling her closer, one hand in the small of her back the other cupping the thigh of her raised leg. Buffy's hands travel the planes of his sculpted chest and she hooks one arm in anchor around his neck as she climbs his body.

"Buffy!"

They both freeze. Buffy's eyes pop open and she stares into Spike's darkened blue.

"Buffy...are you down there?" Dawn's voice travels down the stairs, through the basement and lands in between their bodies. Their mouths slowly separate, their eyes never leaving each other's.

"Y-yeah...I'm here Dawn." Buffy lowers herself from him as searches Spike's face for any indication that he doesn't think they were about to make a mistake. The way he ducks his head and moves away from her tells her the opposite.

"Can you help us with something in the kitchen?" Dawn calls back.

"Sure...I-I'll be right up." Buffy's eyes never leave Spike's retreating form. "Spike." He raises his hand.

"Don't." He turns back to face her, the look on his face confuses her. "It's...there's nothing to say, Buffy. Let's just take it as a sign and be thankful."

**Thankful?**

"Right." She gathers up the laundry and heads towards the stairs. Stopping at the bottom she turns to look at him. "Talk to Dawn, Spike. You both need each other."

Spike nods to her and their eyes lock again. Both note the look of longing in the other and both interpret it as loneliness instead of what it really is. But before anything more can be said or done, Buffy heads up the steps.

"Bugger." Spike says quietly. And then a slow smile creeps across his face as he runs his hands through his hair and moves to dress for the day.

-------------

He steps out of the makeshift shower and dries off, dressing quickly. He hears soft footsteps on the steps as he pulls a black t-shirt over his head.

"S-Spike?" Dawn tiptoes towards him. "Hey." She gives him a small smile.

"Hey nib." Spike smiles sheepishly. He backs up a step and sits on the cot, looking up at the young girl expectantly. Dawn shoves her hands in her pockets.

"Gotta sec?" She tucks a piece of hair behind her ear. Spike nods and gestures towards the cot. She crosses over to him and sits.

"What's on yer mind?" He scoots over to give her a comfortable distance.

"Nothin'…just" Dawn blushes. "I just wanted you to know…that…I'm glad you're here…and I think it's great that you and Buffy are getting along again."

Spike smiles at the littlest Summers. "Yeah, me too platelet. But-" Dawn looks up expectantly.

"But? Aren't things better for you two?" He looks away to avoid showing her the pain in his eyes.

"Yeah, things are…going well. We're good friends now." Dawn cringes and she begin to laugh.

"Good friends? You two? C'mon." Her laughter is cut short when she notices Spike avoiding her eyes. "Spike…you guys…what you have, it's real. I can see it. God, everyone can!"

"There is a…connection, niblet, but not the one you think. Listen, I don' think you came down 'ere to talk about big sis…did you?"

"Nah." She smiles and ducks her eyes. "I just wanted…to…I just-"

Spike reaches over and tugs Dawn towards him. He wraps his arms around her waist and rests his chin on her head. She closes her eyes and places her head on his chest. His voice is very quiet when he speaks. "Nib, I know you have every right to hate me, but I want you to know I'm sorry for what happened. I'd never hurt you or Buffy…not if I can help it."

Dawn is pleasantly surprised at the new and improved affectionate Spike. She remembers a time when being so close to him would have added fuel to the schoolgirl crush she once had. Now it's the comfort of a big brother that she finds in his embrace.

"I know you'd never try to hurt us, Spike. I trust you." She pulls back and looks up at him, giving him her patented smile. He returns it warmly and kisses her forehead over the bandage where he'd inadvertently harmed her. If she could see his eyes, she would see the hurt in them from the knowledge that he'd hurt her. Dawn removes herself from him and gets up from the cot.

"Oi-" he feigns offense. "Is that it?" Dawn smiles brightly as she bounces back over to him and kisses him on the cheek.

"Love you." She winks and skips up the steps.

Spike smirks to himself. That's the first bit of the old Dawn he's seen in months.

**Poor girl's had to see way too much for someone her age. She's all grown up now.**

------------

That night's patrols are divided up. Kennedy and Giles have taken some of the less experienced Potentials. Buffy avoids him, though she knows eventually they will talk. She just isn't ready for it yet. Buffy takes Spike, they walk along in uncomfortable silence. Once they hit the cemeteries, they decide to split up and meet later.

Nothing goes bump in the night so Buffy is distracted from the quiet patrol. Her thoughts keep traveling back to that afternoon in Spike's basement. There was definitely something there…she saw it. Felt it. Tasted it.

**He wanted me as much as I wanted him. So what is holding him back? I know he feels more than he's saying.**

She is walking along trying to recall each moment of that scene when she hears a familiar sound.

"Bloody 'ell...we're on the same side!" Spike's voice carries over the large marble obelisk separating her from him. As she rounds the corner she sees him squaring off with Faith.

**Ah. **She thinks to herself. **The bitch is back.**

TBC

OK I know this was a long, involved chapter but I really want to finish this season. I've already begun my Season 8, and I am excited to move on. Thanks to everyone for your feedback and your encouragement. The rest of this series will play out by the end of the May. Til next time!


	19. Truth Hits Everybody

**Title:** Truth Hits Everybody (Chapter 19 of Don't Stop the Dance)   
  


So sorry for the late update! I promise to give you two chapters today with a third to follow soon.

This is the last one before the AU really kicks in. It takes place during 'Dirty Girls'.

I needed to re-hash some, but not all, of that episode because I have changed some dynamics.  
I also do a bit of summarizing. Only necessary for setting up what's to come.

**Author:** Xionin

**Rating:** R

**Pairing:** B/S; Other major characters included.

**Feedback:** Pretty please!

Lia – Thanks so much; that means a lot. Tulip Wicca – Awww shucks, ain't nothin'. Uh oh, I sound like Caleb! Tracy – Thanks for reviewing. I'm so glad you're having a good time. Wolf116 – I promise lots of Spuffy goodness to come. Shadowschild – Thank you, that's quite a compliment! Albie – As always, your kind words uplift my muse and push me to write even more. Aeneas – Wow…I don't know what to say. *blush*

**Disclaimer:** So I'm walking around the UPN lot, looking at the deserted streets of Sunnydale. A lone tear slips from my eye. So many happy memories. I round the corner and see a door marked 'Costumes'. How could I resist. I poke my way through piles of KY covered latex, stylish Anthropologie clothes and tons of denim when I spot it. Hanging reverently in the corner, it shimmers in the filtered sunlight from the window. I slowly approach, my finger shaking as I run my hands along the worn leather. Slipping the garment from its hanger, I gingerly tug it on over my shoulders. Inhaling deeply, I am greeted by the distinct smell of herbal cigarettes, fake blood, Red Bull and a musky scent that I cannot place. I reach my hands into the pockets and discover a piece of paper. I pull it out, open it up and read. "Xi – Hold onto this for me. Spike"

'Hell yeah' I say, walking out of the room with a new swagger.

**Thank Yous:** Miss Kitty a/k/a La Grande Beta!

Truth Hits Everybody

Faith has been in the Summers home for all of 10 hours and 47 minutes. 

That's 10 hours and 47 minutes too long for her, but she's determined 

to stick it out. There are so many of them. She hadn't really thought 

about what that meant when Willow told her that the remaining Potentials 

were living there. She anticipated being uncomfortable around the usual 

gang plus a few extras. But this is more than a few and these girls 

look at her like she's a freak. 'The Other Slayer' is what they whisper 

when they think she isn't in earshot.

She wonders how much they've been told. And also what's up with the little  
scene she'd witnessed earlier.

**Definitely something going on with B and Giles.**** Spike said not all of that  
was about me, but _that_ I could tell…something nasty must've gone down.  
I know what Icy Buffy looks like, and she was full-on icy with G-man.**

A bunch of the slayer-ettes are gathering in the living room, 

chattering away like schoolgirls. Someone's made coffee and the girls have 

downed it, citing the need to stay alert in case the First decides to 

strike. Faith wanders around downstairs, looking around for a place to 

hide…or…get some peace and quiet. Being around this many people has her on 

edge. She's desperate for a cigarette.

Spotting the basement door, she looks around quickly to see if anyone's 

watching her. Certain that no one is, she slips inside and closes it 

behind her as she descends the steps. When she reaches the bottom, she 

pulls out a cigarette and lights it, inhaling the smoke like a drown 

victim inhaling oxygen. It's a lifeline. She slouches against the basement 

wall, closing her eyes and shaking her head at the absurdity of it all. 

Her. Out of jail. Helping the people she'd once tried to kill save the 

friggin' world.

**Priceless.**

"Canna bum one?" A voice from the shadows startles her. She recognizes 

it though, and instantly her mask comes on. "Or are you looking to be 

alone in the dark?"

Faith peers under the banister to find the platinum blonde lounging on 

a cot against the wall. He is shirtless. What little light there is in 

the room enhances the contours of his musculature.

**Hot. Damn.**

She allows herself a moment to absorb the vision before she gets up 

and saunters over to him offering her own cigarette. When he accepts it, 

she lights another one for herself. She walks back to the staircase, an 

exaggerated sway in her hips, and leans against one of the support 

beams facing Spike.

"This where they're keeping you?" She asks with a curl of her lips, 

indicating the room with a wave of her hand. Spike exhales a plume of 

smoke and sits up, leaning his back against the wall to face her more 

fully.

"You could call it that. I do feel…kept." He smirks. Faith snorts.  
There's a long silence as they size each other up.

"How'd you get roped into wearing a white hat; your chip?" Faith levels 

her gaze in his daring him to lie.

"Know 'bout that, do ya?" He rolls his eyes and reaches over to a milk 

crate to retrieve his makeshift ashtray. Faith nods. "Chip's out," he 

says tapping off some ashes. He doesn't look up to see Faith's reaction.

"Hunh. And I take it B knows and approves?" She raises her eyebrows.

"Yeah, she's the one 'ad it taken out." He studies her out of the 

corner of his eye.

"Really. Well, wonders never cease. What brought on that bout of 

goodwill?" Faith's curiosity is infinitely piqued.

**Hmmm...**William the bloody without his leash.****

"Was killin' me." Spike's voice quiets and he lowers his eyes to  
the blanket in contemplation. "Slayer was given a choice. She chose me."

It still amazes him that Buffy places her trust in him. Faith notices the change 

in his demeanor and crosses over to him. He looks up as she approaches 

and, seeing that she intends to sit, moves over to give her room.

"Well bully for you, Spikey. Finally got B to cut you a break." She 

smiles at him, taking a drag off her cigarette. He smiles back noting how 

different Faith is from His Slayer. He watches her devour the cigarette 

with full, red lips. They study each other for a few moments, both with 

ever-widening smiles.

"Y'know...Buffy's told me a lot 'bout you. Last I heard, you 

were…away." He says, breaking the silence. Faith snorts and puts out the last of 

her cigarette in the ashtray.

'Yeah. Got sprung. Time served. Needed for the big fight and all." She 

roams her eyes around the room before coming back to Spike's.

"Ah, but you were never really locked down to begin with, were you? 

Could've gotten out anytime." It's Spike's turn to dare her to lie.

"Yeah, well..." Faith squirms a little until the scrutiny. "Figured I 

had a coolin' off period coming to me. Got a little wild for my own 

good...or anyone else's for that matter."

"Yeah...know what that's like." He tips his head towards the chains 

hanging from the wall. Faith smirks seductively.

"Ohhhhh...and here I thought those were for...recreation." She grins, 

biting her bottom lip. Spike laughs and shakes his head.

"I got...dangerous...for a while. Not anymore, though." She tips her 

head in tribute. "So…" He doesn't want to let her get off that easily. 

"I'm not the only one on a reprieve?" She shakes her head slowly at his 

question. "And how's it workin' out for you?" Faith pulls her legs up 

onto the cot and crosses them under her.

"I'll let you know later. I have some...tension...to work off first." 

She gives him a wicked smile as she rolls her head around on her neck. 

"Bein' around a bunch of girls all the damn time does things to ya." He 

smirks and laughs under his breath, watching her out of the corner of 

his eye.

"Yah, I guess it would." He smiles, his eyes downcast so that he cannot 

see the blood pumping at the base of her neck at a furious pace.

"You have no idea. Man, God help the dude that takes a crack at me 

first. He may not be able to walk for weeks!"

Spike laughs with her, noticing how flush her skin has become. He can 

smell the beginning of her arousal. Faith pulls back a bit though, not 

sure whether she wants to toy with him or not. She decides to change the 

subject and see if she can get any information out of him about the 

situation upstairs.

"Things seem pretty tense around here, and I'm not talkin' about the 

end-of-the-world kinda tense." Faith is itching to get the dirt on Buffy 

and Giles. The last time she'd seen them, they'd been more like father 

and daughter. Now they seem like they can barely stand to be in a room 

together. Spike groans and finishes his cigarette, stumping it out in 

the ashtray.

"That is a long story an' I think I'd better let Buffy tell you." He 

brushes some stray ashes from his lap.

"Oh c'mon. I won't tell anyone…spill.' She playfully runs her tongue 

along her teeth. Spike wonders if she uses sex for everything. She's a 

beautiful girl and a dangerous one. It's a refreshing combination. It 

would be tempting if his heart weren't spoken for. Still, his lips curl in 

response.

"Let's jus' say…a lot's happened since you've been away." He smiles 

knowingly.

"Yeah well some things don't change." Faith leans back on her arms 

which causes her chest to push out a bit and exposes a bit of her toned 

stomach. Spike's eyes dart to her…endowment…and then back to her face and 

his smile widens. She tilts her head to the side, grinning.

"Some changes would surprise even you, I think." His eyes glitter in 

the low light and his voice lowers a few octaves.

"Yeah?" She breathes. "Name one. Looks to me like not-so-little 

Dawnie's still a brat, Giles is still made outta tweed even with the change to 

corduroy, Xander's…Xander and Willow…well Will is a surprise. She's 

filled out nicely. Probably got a few tongues wagging her way." Spike 

laughs out loud this time.

"Oh, you have no idea!" His shoulders shake. Faith arches an eyebrow.

"So spill. You've been here for all the chapters, right?" Spike nods. "So what's the dilly?"

"Again, waaay too much for me to be the one t' tell ya, luv."

"O…K," Faith tries a different approach. "How about this: I saw 

somethin' interesting before we left LA. You just tell me if I'm barking up 

the wrong tree, deal?" Spike nods, his eyebrow arching. "Will and Fred, 

this chick back in LA…helps Angel out…anyway, either I've really been 

inside the joint too long or there was some serious flirtage going on 

with them right before we left." Spike just smiles. "Nooo WAY!" Faith 

laughs and Spike does too. "Wow…damn, girl. You go."

"Yeah, 'ave to say I was pretty surprised when I found out m'self, and 

I didn't even know Red then…not really." Faith is still shaking her 

head.

"Well, that's it for me. My whole shit is blown away. If someone had 

told me 4 years ago that she'd be into chicks, I would've died from 

laughin' so hard." She shakes her head again in disbelief. "She got a girl?" 

Spike stops laughing slowly and his mood darkens a bit.

"I think she's got something wiv' the bossy chit…you'll meet 'er 

later." He lowers his voice and Faith catches it.

"Whassup? You don't like the S.O.?"

"There…was another... Her first, I think. Sweet bird too." Spike smiles 

a little as he plays with a bit of the blanket. It's pained. Faith 

lowers her voice and her eyebrows knit a little.

"So...what happened?" She asks softly, her eyes darting to the steps to 

make sure they are still alone.

"Some asshole shot her. Right 'ere in the house. In front of 'er. Red." 

Spike's jaw clenches as the anger over such a senseless death still 

haunts him; especially the knowledge that he hadn't been there to help 

prevent it, as well as why he hadn't been there. He takes a deep, 

unnecessary breath.

"Shit." It's a whisper. "Wow…man, that's...harsh. Maybe you're right. 

Maybe I don't want you to tell me." Faith shakes her head again, tossing 

her dark hair and runs her hands down her arms as if fighting a chill.

"Yeah." Spike smoothes his hair back roughly. "Got pretty scary from 

what I gather."

"What, you weren't around?" She looks at him confused. A dark cloud 

passes over his face.

"No." He doesn't elaborate. Faith doesn't push it.

"So…it can't all have been doom and gloom. Anything delicious happen?" 

She smiles mischievously. "Something I can use against B? She get drunk 

at a party and finally let her hair down with some guy?" Spike laughs 

unexpectedly and Faith grins confused.

"You have been away." Spike smirks knowingly to himself.

"Wait, you mean miss high-and-mighty gets down-and-dirty with someone?" 

She feigns shock.

"Well…not so much lately…but yeah." He picks some lint off his jeans, 

his smile growing.

"Fuuuuck." Faith laughs. "I missed all the good shit." A comfortable 

silence settles between the two of them, though they don't take their 

eyes off one another. Spike is enjoying the brunette's company and Faith 

is wondering whether or not to tell him about their other encounter. She 

decides to brave it.

"Y'know..." she leans towards him, resting her elbows on her knees. 

"We've met before." Spike arches an eyebrow at her.

"Yeah...met your fist a few times." She laughs, but leans in closer.

"No, I mean before that." She studies him, inches from his face and 

watches as the realization dawns on him.

"The body swap." He squints his eyes at her, but his lips are curled in 

a smile. She nods and pulls back.

"So you remember that, do ya?" She grins.

"Not somethin' a bloke's likely to forget, pet." He slips away from the 

wall, leaning forward to meet her at eye level.

"Oh yeah?" She whispers a bit anxiously.

"Somethin' about riding me at a gallop till m' legs buckle and m' eyes 

roll up." Faith unknowingly moistens her lips as she watches the words 

tumble from his. "Somethin' about 'avin' muscles I've never even 

dreamed of that could squeeze me 'til I pop like warm champagne...if I recall 

correctly." 

Spike's gaze has darkened as he watches the effects of his voice and 

the words wash over her. His tongue curls to the edge of his teeth 

playfully. He lets his eyes drift to her mouth, noticing the slight tremble 

of desire in her lower lip. There is a beat before he leans back against 

the wall and smirks at her.

"Gotcha," he says and issues a grovel-like laugh. Faith exhales with a 

hiss and smiles, slapping him on the arm and returning his laughter.  

They're both still laughing as the basement door opens and Buffy comes 

down the steps.

"Spike, you-" she stops when she sees the pair sitting cozily on the 

cot. Spike shirtless; Faith in a wispy tank top and jeans. Faith leans 

back on her hands again, arching for Spike's sake, as she turns her head 

to the newcomer.

"Hey, B. Spike's been filling me in a bit on what's been going on 

around here." She smiles coyly. Buffy crosses her arms. She feels the 

jealousy rising and fights to keep the blood from rushing to her cheeks.

**So what Faith is here. So what she's sitting on Spike's bed and he's half-naked.**

Spike sees the Slayers squaring off and silently enjoys the show. The dark one is using every trick in the book to get his attention. The light one is about to explode.

**Neat.**

He smiles at Buffy.

"Aren't you usually at work 'bout now?" He tilts his head at her.

"I…uh…thought I'd cut back on my hours. Stay around here to-" she looks 

pointedly at Faith. "-keep an eye on things." Faith doesn't miss the 

barb. She swings her legs over the side of the cot and stands up, 

stretching her fit body for Spike's appreciation. She winks at him and heads 

towards the steps.

"I'm gonna go stretch my legs. Catch ya later Spikey...B" Faith brushes 

by Buffy as she heads upstairs. Buffy glares at Spike. He grins at her, 

but notices the blood rushing to her cheeks and ducks his head.

"Glad to see you two are getting along, _Spikey_." She practically spits 

out the word. He has to refrain from chuckling.

"Jus' talkin', luv. She's feelin' a little lost in the herd." He scoots 

to the edge of the cot and reaches for a t-shirt, roughly pulling it

over his head. "Somethin' you need?" Buffy's breathing calms as her anger  
dissipates. She uncrosses her arms and walks over to the cot plopping down

next to him. She watches the planes of his back move beneath the taut

t-shirt. She drifts into memories momentarily, before his voice brings

her back down to earth. "Luv?" He turns towards her, concern showing in  
his face. "We really were jus' talkin'."

"I know." **I'd hoped. The basement door opens and Dawn appears at the top of the steps.**

"Buffy...the girl – Shannon – she's awake." Buffy looks Spike in the eye,  
silently thanking him, heads out to get information.

-----------------

Later that evening, Spike and Buffy sit on the back steps discussing 

their newest enemy...

"I wouldn't worry too much about the seal, luv. Doesn't seem it's 

attention 'as been over there lately."

"It's not that...it's this preacher guy. Caleb. I'm not sure what to do 

here. What could he have that's mine?" 

"Whatever it is, Buffy, we'll get it back. Buffy stands up and begins  
pacing back and forth. "Do you have a plan?" 

"I want to go over there, but it's obvious that he's waiting for me to 

do just that." Spike stands up to interrupt her pacing.

"Whoa..." He takes her by the shoulders. "You really think that's wise, 

goin' over there not knowing what sorta set-up he has?" Buffy exhales 

deeply.

"I dunno, Spike...I mean...we might have the element of surprise on our 

side. And if we take only the best with us, divide into two fronts..."

"I see...well...I'm in, if you're gonna do this. Who else were you 

thinkin' of takin'?" He releases her and stands with his arms folded 

watching her assume her general's role.

"Let's see...you, me...Kennedy, um...the sorta blonde one...God, I 

don't even know their names!" Buffy plops down on the steps in frustration. 

Spike sits beside her. "It must seem so harsh of me, not knowing their 

names. But- I-"

"Don't wanna get too close? 'fraid you're gonna lose some of 'em?" 

Spike's voice is soft, empathetic. He's seen the way she distances herself 

from the girls. He also believes this is the reason so many of them 

resent him now, especially Kennedy. He's the right hand man.

"You're my Number 1, Spike. I trust you. I know you can take care of 

yourself, but it doesn't mean that I don't worry; that I'm not scared." 

Spike nods. "But these girls...they're not ready. Not at all. How can I 

lead them to their own deaths?"

"Buffy..." He turns to her and takes her hands. "Pet...you're not 

leading them to their deaths. You're giving them a chance at survivin' this 

whole mess. I mean- they were bein' picked off one by one by those 

Bringer blokes 'cause they're a threat to the First, right?" Buffy nods. 

"So innit good that they're here together, with you, to help turn this 

thing around? Gives 'em a fightin' chance. And they need you to lead 

them, luv. You're the Slayer." His fingers draw soft circles on the backs 

of her hands. She looks down at them, but she is lost in thought.

"I barely knew Chloe, Spike." She looks up at him. "I mean I barely 

knew her name, even. There are a dozen Chloes in that house and I- 

can't..." Spike takes her head in his hands and rests his lips in the hair 

just above her forehead.

"I know, pet...I know. You're strong. You'll do wha's right. You'll 

win. It won't be easy and not all of us will make it, but you gotta 

believe, luv. You gotta." He lets her go and she attempts to smile. "Let's 

call everyone together and we'll figure this thing out."

---------------

Later that night Buffy takes a small army to the vineyard to confront 

Caleb. The result is a disaster as several Potentials lose their lives 

and Xander loses an eye. Buffy seems powerless against this new threat. 

And Caleb seems to take immense joy in toying with her.

Surveying the wounded at the hospital, something churns inside of 

Buffy. She hovers in the ward, seeing the injuries, hearing the moans and 

she feels...nothing. Empty. She walks over to the bed of her best friend 

and he looks at her with one eye. One eye!

Willow is sitting on Xander's bed, holding his hand and Buffy wonders 

why she doesn't feel the need to go sit on the other side. She...just 

doesn't feel anything.

Nothing.

She had been wrong, leading them in there like that. They weren't 

prepared. And they'd all followed her like lemmings. Like lambs to the 

slaughter. And who the hell is she anyway?

The slayer?

**A slayer.**** And not the only one.**

**I'm fucking making this up as I goes along!  
  
**

**Turning down power from the shaman that started the slayer line!  
  
**

**Pushing everyone away!  
  
**

**Taking wrong turns left and right!**

**The truth is I don't know what the hell to do. The truth is...**

She wants the tears to come, but they don't.

**The truth is I failed and everybody else got hit with the payback.**

She walks past Xander and heads out of the double doors, out of the 

hospital and out into the night.

Alone.

TBC

Next Chapter 20: Canary in a Coalmine.


	20. Canary In A Coalmine

**Title:** Canary in a Coalmine (Chapter 20 of Don't Stop the Dance)   
My version of some of the events during 'Empty Places' and 'Touched'

I've put the 'Empty places' summary below up to the point where this chapter begins.

**Author:** Xionin

**Rating:** R

**Pairing:** Buffy/Spike.

**Feedback:** Pretty please! "I-I-I need your love."  
Lia – You're making me blush! I'm so glad you're enjoying this. Just-me – If only I could, sweetie. If only I could. ;]

**Disclaimer:** This chapter brought to you by the letter M and the letter E. So gracious of them to let me borrow their expensive toys.

**Thank Yous:** Miss Kitty - the Guinness World Record holder for Most Prolific Beta!

Previously on Buffy [snipped from UPN] : There's a mass exodus going on in Sunnydale. Using a little of her magical mojo, Willow helps Giles get information from the police on connections to organizations Caleb might have in California or elsewhere. Buffy drifts further and further away from the group, unable to deal with the sadness and loss. At the school she has another deflating encounter with Caleb. Giles sends Spike and Andrew to a mission in Gilroy to gather more information. After they leave, Faith gets inspired: she takes the girls out for a night on the town. A battered Buffy arrives home to find the house empty of everyone except Giles. They clash again over the subject of Spike when Buffy suggests he sent Spike on the search, hoping he'd be killed. She becomes even more irritated when she learns that Faith took the girls away to let off some steam. At the Bronze, Faith's party is crashed by the cops, there to cart her back to jail. However, they appear to have an ulterior motive when they throw her outside and aim their guns at her. While she's fighting them off, a cop with a big gun keeps everyone inside, until Kennedy steps up and disarms him. The rest of the girls rush outside to help and eventually defeat the cops-from-hell. Buffy arrives in a huff and sends the girls home, berating Faith for leading the "children" into danger. Faith counters that they aren't children, and that Buffy is the one who led them into danger at the vineyard, and look what happened then. Buffy slugs Faith and stalks off. Spike and Andrew with the help of a frightened priest, find out that Caleb came to the mission in search of a plaque that even the priests didn't know existed. When he found it, his temper exploded and he branded the priest, who ran and hid. When the man shows Spike the plaque, the Vamp translates, "It is not for thee, it is for her alone to wield." Later, back on Revello Drive...

Canary in a Coalmine

The handmade 'Welcome Home' banner hangs limply in the archway. It seems to reflect the mood of everyone in the room as they all gather to show their support for Xander. He is visibly moved as he enters the house, glancing around the room at all of the frightened, wounded faces. 'Sorry' was what most of their eyes said. Lots of 'sorry'.

"You guys..." He trails off as the tears threaten to spill again. They lead him to the armchair of honor and he offers weak smiles to the subdued crowd.

"Sorry it isn't...more, y'know, festive." Dawn says, smiling genuinely. It is hardest most of all for her to see Xander this way. Not long ago they'd had their chat about being the 'normal' ones in this group. When she had felt so left out, it was the 'Xan-man' that crashed her pity party and told her that they were special too; That not having super powers was ok because there are other things equally as important like friendship and love and support. How he must feel now, she thinks, now that he's...

"Oh, I dunno Dawn. Being surrounded by a bunch of gorgeous girls does wonders for the walking wounded." He smiles bravely. Arms hug him and hands pat him sympathetically as Buffy steps into the room.

Silence ensues as everyone waits for her to speak to her friend.

"We're...really happy...to have you home, Xan." Her voice threatens to break, but she bites it back. Instead she smiles as warmly as she can but at the sight of him looking up at her with the bandage...she has to look away. She clears her throat and decides that this is as good a time as any to get everyone back on track and focused. It's then that she notices Robin to her right with Faith. Their eyes meet momentarily before he looks away.

"So...since most of us are here...I want you to know that I've figured it out."  Confused frowns dot the faces around the room. "I think we've been wrong all this time...a-about the seal. I don't think it's about the seal anymore." She glances about the room at everyone's expectant faces. They all look so worn, so broken. She knows that this is her fault. That she was the cause for Rona's cast, for Xander's...loss.

"W-well...what have you...er...concluded, Buffy?" Giles doesn't look her directly in the eye, but he is addressing her with respect which is more than she can muster for him right now. Again, there's obvious fatigue in his voice.

"We have to go back. To the vineyard." She waits for the inevitable responses.

Groans, heads shaking. 'No way.' 'Not going back there.' 'She's nuts if-'

"I know..." she interrupts the murmurs. "I know it didn't...go well...last time, but that's because we weren't prepared. We _know_ what we're up against now. And I know we're on the right track because Caleb is trying very hard to keep us out of there. He's hiding something."

"Look...Buffy...do you have any proof?" Willow asks. "Anything to go on other than your hunch?"

"No, Will...I-I-I don't. It's just...it hit me today, when I was confronted by Caleb." Eyebrows arch and eyes sweep over her for signs of damage. "I'm fine...but I realized something.

"If it was all about the seal, why isn't there a legion of Bringers over there protecting it? Why isn't there any activity at all? We need to go back to the vineyard and take whatever it is he's protecting. Tonight."

"Wait, wait wait. I hear what you're saying, B, and it's a cool theory and all but do you really want us to go back over there fighting super-Padre without so much as a plan?" Faith's question brings nods and whispers of assent from the group.

"Yeah," Kennedy chimes in. "I don't want to charge in there again unless we know for sure that something _good_ is going to come out of it. I don't mind risking my neck, but I need a real reason and not just some hunch."

"Look-" Buffy tries to counter.

"Right! _Some _ of us don't have slayer healing." Rona chides. More assenting comes from the girls. Giles straightens up and faces Buffy.

"I really don't think that it's wise to go back there so soon with no evidence that it will accomplish anything. Your theory is half thought out at best and it simply isn't worth the risk." He does look her in the eye this time.

"Since when did you start questioning my instincts, Giles?" She turns to him. "Oh...I guess that would be about the same time you started trying to handle my _problems for me." Her jaw sets in anger. They glare at each other for a moment before she speaks again. "Where is Spike?" She narrows her eyes at him._

"He and Andrew are on a mission." Giles' flat tone poorly masks his indignation at his anticipated reaction from her.

"A mission." Buffy's heart is racing. She feels the fear building from her gut and she channels it into rage.

"Yes." Giles stone-faces her, daring her to explode.

"Is this a mission he's expected to return from..._alive_?" Her voice is remarkably steady as she glances over his shoulder briefly at Robin Wood. Wood swallows and sets his jaw before he looks away.

"Yes." Giles snaps at her. His voice is clipped, bitter and so low as to only be heard by her. **How dare she.  
**"He'll be back, _Buffy_." She let's out an inaudible breath, trying desperately to hide her fear that those words may hold no truth whatsoever. She turns back to the group.

"Look..._I am the Slayer here and I say that we do this." She scans the group for a challenge._

"And why should we follow you?" Kennedy stands up and crosses the room to stand directly in front of her.

"Because I am your leader. I lead, you follow." She turns to square off with Kennedy, her hands land on her hips.

"Well, I think that role needs to be reassessed." Kennedy places her hands on her hips. Buffy is a little thrown off guard at the remark.

"What? What did you say?" She takes a step forward, her voice raspy. Willow, recognizing the tone and temperament, steps up next to Kennedy.

"Maybe you should back off, sweetie." She says softly. Kennedy flinches and turns to her.

"Why are you always defending her?" She yells.

"I...I'm not." Willows voice is soft but firm. She hesitantly looks at Buffy and then down and away. Dawn stands up and moves beside her sister. Her eyes are on Willow and the witch can feel them questioning her.

"You're not? Will?" It's a whisper as Buffy suddenly finds her voice missing.

"Faith's a slayer too and I say _she_ should be the one to lead us." Kennedy gestures over to Faith who stands up with her hands in front of her in protest.

"Hold on...I ain't no one's leader. I'm just saying that we need to think of a plan before we go back over there all kamikaze."

"No, Faith, I think we _should_ consider handing things over to you." Giles turns to the stunned girl but a hand on his arm stops him and he spins around into Buffy's enraged face.

"_You_." She hisses. "You did this...on purpose! You sent Spike away just for this, didn't you? To fucking ambush me?" Her eyes are wide with anger, her hand tightening on his arm so much that he wrenches it free.

"You stupid little girl!" Giles spits out the words. There are gasps in the room.

"Oh for fuck's sake!" Wood jumps up to them. "This isn't about your _vampire this is about you!"_

"You don't belong here, _Robin_, you need to leave. Now." Buffy doesn't take her eyes off of Giles.

"He's not going anywhere, B. But I think you should get a grip on yourself before things get out of hand." Faith steps closer to her and Buffy realizes that she is pretty much surrounded. Kennedy is inches from her left, Dawn from her right; Giles Faith and Robin in front. She steps back and takes a deep breath.

"You guys...I've been protecting you for _seven_ years." She looks around the room at all of them. "Seven years! I've fought and _died_ and never once have I let anything happen." Her eyes fall on Xander's face as the last few words slip from her mouth. She stops. He smiles a grim smile.

"I'm trying to see your point here, Buff, I really am." He leans his head to the side and squints his eye. "I guess it's a little to my left."

That hits her like a slap across the cheek. She looks around the room and sees not a single sign of support.

"So that's it? I'm out and Faith's in? Do you guys have any..." A wave of fear and fatigues washes over her as her voice falters. "Do you know that I'm the only one that can...I'm _right_ about this. I'm right!"

"No, we don't know that Buffy." Giles says calmly. "And we also don't think you're the only one. Faith is here now."

"No offense but _Faith_ doesn't have the experience that I do." She says exasperated.

"None taken, B, but you're wrong. You're not thinking straight. Now, I don't wanna be a leader, but if that's what everyone wants." She looks around the room and everyone nods, everyone except Dawn who stands silently at Buffy's side. "I'll do what I have to do."

Buffy is stunned. These people...her friends...her Watcher...turning against her.

**Don't they know? Can't they see? They're wrong. They'll die. They'll all die!**

"How can you expect me to stand by and watch you all die?" She says simply.

"Maybe you should leave." Buffy turns at the sound of Kennedy's voice. She looks to Willow who falls in line next to her new girlfriend.

"Will?" Buffy's whisper is pleading.

"I think maybe you should. Go, Buffy." Willow's gaze doesn't falter this time.

"You ungrateful bitch!" Dawn's shrill voice startles everyone and all eyes fall on her as she backs up away from the group. "How could you say that? And you!" She turns to Giles. "How could you do this to her?" Her face is red with anger and her hands are clenched into tight fists. She is trembling.

"Dawn...i-it's all right." Buffy tries to calm her sister, but she is the next to receive the wrath.

"No! It's _not_ all right, Buffy! They're traitors! They're throwing you out of your own house. Out of _my house!"_

Buffy steps aside in defeat as Dawn sweeps her eyes across the group. "You're the ones that don't belong here!" Willow reaches for her, but Dawn slaps her hand away with a loud thwack.

"You want her out? Fine." Buffy walks out of the front door without glancing back. "I'm going with her because I _trust her. I _know_ she's right." She follows her sister's footsteps but turns before she walks out of the door. Slowly she meets the eyes of Willow, Xander, Faith and finally Giles for whom she summons particular venom._

"I hope you all fry in hell." She growls out as she slams the door behind her.

The group glances around at each other unsurely. Giles takes off his glasses and nearly crushes them in his trembling hands. Tempers are running high and it's a slow descent.

"Ding dong the witch is gone." Rona sing-songs, breaking the silence.

"And she took Toto too." Another voice chimes in. Willow turns to the pair, her nostrils flaring.

"Shut. Up."

-----------------

Buffy is standing just in front of the house when Dawn comes up from behind. Tears are running down her cheeks unchecked, now, and the welcome sight of her younger sister brings the sobs from her throat. The girls hold each other, crying, as the front door opens.

"Buffy." Faith cautiously approaches the pair and they break apart. Dawn glares; Buffy averts her eyes and focuses on the living room window.

"Buffy...I didn't mean-"

"No. It's all right. Really. There's..." She wipes her face with her sleeve. "There's a lot more going on than just you." She looks at Faith now. "Promise me you'll take care of them."

Faith nods. "I'll do my best...make you proud." She attempts a smile.

"Their lives are in your hands now." Another tear slips from her eye. Dawn squeezes her hand and leads her away. Faith goes back into the house to assume her new leadership.

-----------------

Buffy and Dawn walk down a neighboring street, Dawn's arm is around her older but shorter sister's shoulder. She notes the blank look in Buffy's eye. Something was broken back there and she wonders if anyone can ever fix it. She hates them. All of them, but especially Willow, Xander and Giles.

**God, how could they!**

The only cars on the street are being packed up by evacuees. Everyone knows that something big is coming, Clem had said, and it seems everyone is getting out of dodge. As they pass the houses, Dawn notices one front door ajar.

"Buffy..." She lets go of her sister and walks carefully up to the house. Peering inside the door she calls out. When no one answers she steps inside and looks around in the darkness. Buffy has slowly made her way up the walkway.

"Dawn?" She is startled when Dawn's hand grabs her arm.

"I think the owners have moved out, Buffy, we can stay here." Dawn smiles a bit and leads her sullen sister inside, flipping on a light. "Sit down and rest. It's been a long day." She closes the door and heads to the kitchen to rummage for some food. Just then, the power goes out. Buffy jumps off the couch.

"Dawn!" They literally bump into each other. "Ow. I thought something happened." Dawn rubs her chin and walks over to the window.

"Looks like the power's out all over. I guess it's just another symptom of doom." She attempts a chuckle. Buffy wanders around the living room, feeling for candles of some kind. Dawn feels her way back to the kitchen. Searching through the drawers, she finds a bag of votives from Ikea and a bunch of souvenir matchbooks. She lights a candle and places it on the counter. She then lights another one and walks back into the living room where Buffy has found a silver holder with a long taper in it. Dawn uses her votive to light the taper and soft shadows fill the room.

"That's better." She says. Buffy sighs. "Let's explore." Dawn and Buffy walk through the rancher and discover that it has two bedrooms. "Oooo. We won't have to share tonight." Dawn's attempt at lightheartedness falls flat on Buffy.

**It's over. I'm no longer in it. No longer fighting. I just have to...let go.**

Dawn pulls her sister along like a child from room to room. "Wow, this bathtub is so huge!" She lets go of Buffy's hand and goes back into the kitchen. She returns a moment later with a handful of votives. "Let's light these, place them around the tub here, and then I can draw you a nice hot bath. Whaddya say?" She looks expectantly at her sister.

Buffy looks into her face and smiles. She knows what Dawn's trying to do. She is so grateful to have her and silently thanks the heavens that she was given this gift.

"Sounds like heaven, Dawn." She smiles, but it's weary.

"Great!" Dawn instantly perks up. She hands Buffy a votive and shoos her into the larger bedroom. "Get out of those clothes and I'll run the water for you." Buffy's tired legs carry her into the master bedroom. It is modest, but comfortable; not unlike her mother's room.

**Oh mom, I'm sorry.  
I've failed.**

She slowly begins to undress to the sounds of the running water. Dawn walks in with a piece of dark fabric in her hands. "I know you don't wanna run around naked, so you can wrap this beach towel around you, k?" Buffy nods her thanks.

She doesn't remember ever being this tired. Her bones ache. Her muscles twitch. What she wouldn't give to just sleep for a week. But then again she can, can't she? She's been relieved of duty. Dismissed. Discarded. Tears sting the back of her eyes again and she blinks them back.

"Buffy, the water's ready!" Dawn's voice travels through the air. "I'll be in the other bedroom if you need anything.

"Thanks, Dawnie!" **Thanks for not leaving me alone.**

Buffy leaves the votive on the dresser since the candles in the bathroom throw a feint enough glow to guide her down the hall. When she steps inside, the smell of jasmine hits her. Dawn has put bubble bath in the water. She smiles and the tears begin. She backs out of the bathroom and find Dawn sitting in the other bedroom, staring out the window.

"Hey...you're supposed to be soaking." Dawn's voice is quiet. Reflective.

"I just wanted to say thanks. And to tell you I love you. A-and I'm proud you're my sister. I don't think I say those things enough." She gazes down at the beautiful young woman. Dawn's smile lights up the room as she rises and walks over to her.

"I love you too, Buffy. We'll be okay. And maybe when Spike gets back-" she continues, but Buffy doesn't hear her.

**Spike.**** Where is he? Oh God, is he still alive?**

As if reading her thoughts, Dawn takes her sister's hands. "He's fine, Buff. I don't think Giles sent him away to die. He'll be back." She smiles. "I wouldn't want to be in their shoes when he finds out..."

"It's for the best, Dawn." She stops her sister's protests. "It is. Now get some rest. I'll go take that bath." Buffy gives Dawn's hands a reassuring squeeze and she heads back into the bathroom and closes the door. She slips out of the towel and tentatively dips her toes into the water. The temperature is perfect as she glides in.

She can't even remember the last time she'd been able to take a bath. It's like coming home. The warmth of the water, the sweet scent of the bubbles and the candles flickering all around remind her of a time when everything was still right with the world. When she had the love of her friends, she could simply slay the bad guys and things made sense.

Now she is in a strange house, cast out from her own...on her own, with the world crumbling around her. At least she still has Dawn. After the distance that had been growing between them, Buffy wasn't sure Dawn would stand by her. But they've repaired some of the damage over the last few days. In fact, there was a lot of healing done between her, Dawn and Spike recently. She had been happy that they were OK again. She wonders now how everything else around her had gone south. Willow. Xander. Giles. All hating her as they surely must to do this.

Has she been so blind? Was their faith and trust in her obliterated? Gone? Without a trace?

Buffy closes her eyes and lets the warm water wash the confusion and bitterness away for a little while. She's not the One anymore. She's no longer responsible. So why does she feel like she is?

---------------------

As soon as the engine cuts off, he can sense something's off. Spike flips the kickstand down as he feels Andrew's weight lift from behind him.

"Gotta pee...gotta pee...gotte pee..." The youngster dances his way into the house. "We're back! And boy do we have a lot of news, but first...gotta pee." With that he rushes up to the bathroom. Spike chuckles low as he shakes his head. He walks straight into the kitchen and notices a meeting going on. The air is immediately hushed, however, and all eyes seem to avoid him.

"Hey all. Where's Buffy? I've got some information for her." Spike addresses Willow who averts his gaze. He turns to Giles, his eyebrows questioning.

"She's..." Giles begins.

"Out." Faith continues.

"Yeah...she...uh...had to go out." Willow stammers nervously.

"She went out." He repeats. She nods. "Alone?" He asks. She nods again. "OK, so when's she expected back?" All heads turn to one another, each looking for someone to speak up. Spike cocks his head and his eyebrow arches a bit more.

**Something's not right, 'ere.**

"Well...Spike..." Willow command of the English language is severely challenged, but she manages to get out the important details. "There was a....discussion and...it was decided...BUFFY...Buffy decided that it would be best if she...took...a break...right now."

"A break." Again Willow nods. "In the middle of a bloody apocalypse." She nods again and looks to Giles for support. "You been practicing that speech long, luv?" He snarls at her.

"Spike," Giles steps up. "It's none of your concern where Buffy is. Now if you have info-"

"Oh shut the bloody hell up, _Rupert_!" Giles' mouth hangs open in shock. Spike surveys the room dangerously, his eye lingering a long time on Faith.

"You're a soddin' ungrateful bunch of pathetic losers, the lot of you. A _break_, eh? Who do you fucking think you are?"

"Now _you listen, __Spike." Giles hisses the name. "You have no right to come in here and dress us down. We're at war-"_

"There's more than one war going on 'ere, _Rupes." Spike levels his gaze at the Watcher. "This one's about control. Innit? S'about who's in charge. That's it, isn't it? The student has surpassed the teacher and you've no place here anymore." He squints his eyes and sizes him up. "Pathetic."_

"All right, blondie, that's enough." Faith steps up as the two men square off.

"And you!" Spike turns to her. "You got just what you were after, din't you?" Faith shakes her head to say no, but Spike continues. "You got 'er house, you got 'er friends and now you've got 'er job. Must make you feel _real_ good...stickin' it to 'er like that."

"Shut up, you don't know what you're-"

"Oh I know! I most certainly _do_ know." Spike paces the length of the counter before turning back to Giles, Willow close behind him. "She's done everything...all of it...to save your bloody lives. She's killed for you. _Died_ for you. Given up everything for _you_! She gave up her life! An' I'm not jus' talkin' about her dyin', I'm talkin' about her _life. She's __retreated from _life_ so that she could be strong enough to protect _you_. And you lot..._this_ is how you repay her? You sent her out there alone with Caleb on the loose?" At the mention of the Preacher, murmurs are heard. "Yeah, din't think o' that...did ya when you sent her __out?"_

"The time for lame speeches is over, pretty boy." Faith attempts to assert her authority over the situation. "I think you'd better back the fuck off."

"S' that right?" He turns and faces her.

"Yep." She smiles suddenly. "Don't get me wrong, though, I think it's kinda cute."

"Cute." His eyes narrow and he crosses his arms over his chest.

"Yeah, the way you stick up for her. Follow her around like a little puppy dog when she doesn't even give you the time of day." He tilts his head. "You think I didn't notice that little display downstairs? You think because she's a little jealous that she actually wants you? That wasn't about you, lover, _that_ was about history-"

"Faith." Willow tries to interrupt.

"You think if you keep doin' the good deeds, she'll actually part her dimpled knees and invite you in?" Faith doesn't see the hand until it's too late and she lands hard against the counter. When she straightens up, Spike is glaring at her, his arms at the ready for her retaliation. "Yeah...just like _she_ would do. Truth hurts, doesn't it?"

"You wouldn't know the bloody truth you stupid bint." Spike's voice is dangerously low. The group instinctively moves back as he and Faith face off again.

"Oh no, Spikey? Why don't you tell me? Oh wait, let me guess...she _loves_ you. Is that what you're gonna say? God...you're hot, but not too bright."

This time she anticipates the blow and blocks it, bringing his arm down and forward as she knees him in the chin. He dances back a few steps and growls. When she lunges again, he is ready for her and tosses her into the hallway. Faith pulls herself up and fakes to his left, when he moves she punches him across the jaw, whipping his head around. When he resets, she punches him again, but he goes down and whips her legs from under her and she goes down. She kicks back up and swings her leg around catching him in the side. He doubles over for a moment, but catches her next blow and flips her over and into the wall.

He breaks off the fight and looks up at the group that has followed them into the other room.

"Where. Did. She. Go?" He asks Willow.

"I-I really don't know, Spike." She stammers, fear in her eyes. "But Dawn is with her." Spike's eyes widen and he turns and storms out of the house.

-------------------

It doesn't take him long to track them down, especially since they haven't gone far. His anxiety over telling her what he's discovered is only outweighed by the rage that still buzzes through him over what had occurred in his absence.

He traces them to a nearby house. He heads quickly up the walkway and isn't too surprised to find that he doesn't need an invitation to enter. He quietly opens the door and steps inside.

_Buffy._

Her scent is everywhere, as is Dawn's. He walks silently through the house until he sees Dawn's sleeping form on a small bed. Her legs are hanging over the side with her feet on the floor, but she is out cold. He lets his eyes scan over her for any signs of damage and there are none. He gently lifts her and places her properly on the bed, pulling the coverlet over her. He leans over and places a soft kiss on the forehead.

"'Night Niblet." He smiles at her soft murmuring. Closing the door behind him, he scans the house for signs of Buffy. He hears water sloshing in the bathroom and knocks on the door.

"Buffy?" He keeps his voice low.

"Spike?" He hears the relief in her voice and tries to will the door open so that he can see her and see that she is OK. There are quick movements inside and then the door does open and what he sees takes his voice away.

Buffy is wrapped in a towel, her hair swept up in a crude ponytail. The light from half a dozen candles plays gently against her golden skin. There is the feint sheen of moisture on her from the bath. Her eyes, however, are red-rimmed from crying. Spike is broken out of the spell at that realization. He steps back and she silently walks past him and into the living room. When she settles onto the couch, he sits across from her on the coffee table.

"I don't think whoever lives here would want you doing that." She says with a small smile.

"Funny, I don' think they'd want strange women bathin' in their tubs, either." She chuckles softly. All amusement leaves them both, however, when their eyes meet. Buffy immediately begins welling up.

"I went over there." He says to let her know he knew. "Belted Faith a coupla times 'n left."

"You did?" She grins a little. "Doesn't matter." She says resignedly. "It's over. I'm done."

"What do you mean, done? I've got incredible news for you."

"Yeah?" She says wearily. "What's that?"

"You were right...'bout the vineyard. There _is_ somethin' there. Caleb's tryin' to keep it from you." He looks at her expectantly, but there's no response. She stares off into space. "I say we go in there tomorrow night and take it."

"No."

His brow wrinkles with confusion. "No?"

"No, Spike. I mean it. I'm done. Faith is the leader now. If you have information, you should give it to her."

Spike becomes angry, suddenly. This isn't the Buffy _he knows._

"Bugger that!" He lowers his voice when he remembers Dawn. "I was over there, luv, they need you." At his words, Buffy does look at him, her face perks up a bit.

"They do?"

"Yeah! 'course they do...i-it-it's a mess over there. They're lost without you." He hopes she doesn't see through his exaggeration.

"Really?" She almost sounds hopeful.

"Oh, yeah. There's no food in the house. N-no one knows where anything goes..." He gives up his tale at her deflated look. "I really didn't see much, pet, but it doesn' matter. _You are their leader."_

"Was."

"And you can be again. Take it back. They took it from you, we can take it back." Buffy stands up and moves away from him.

"No, Spike, it's over..._I'm_ over. Done. Not needed. Not the One. And I'm tired...so tired." Spike moves over in front of her.

"I now you're tired, luv, but it's not like you to give up."

"Watch me."

"Don't you even want to know what I found? You were _right luv. They need you and they don't even know it!"_

"You don't understand...I _can't_! I can't do this. I don't have what it takes."

"Bullshit-"

"I can't handle this power...this responsibility. I say the word and someone dies. Girls die, Spike, people lose body parts." She is trembling now and the tears start to spill again. She crosses back over to the couch and sinks down, her head in her hands. "It wasn't just Faith...it was all of them...and they were right."

Spike exhales deeply and he resumes his spot on the coffee table. He reaches out to touch her, but hesitates and withdraws.

"If we jus' tell 'em, luv. If they could see that you were right, they'd fall in line. They'll believe-"

"Why would they believe me?" She looks up at him with a face that devastates him. She isn't going to go back. She isn't going to fight unless he can make her see. "_I _don't believe _in me. You shouldn't either, God! How are they supposed to believe in me when I pushed them all away?" She gets up again, but this time he doesn't follow. He just watches her._

"I've always done that...push people away. I used the excuse of being the Slayer, not getting too close because I'd put people in danger. That's just a cop out, though, and I know it. I was only protecting myself. I couldn't stand to lose anyone...to hurt like...to hurt..."

"Like you did when Angel left. Like when your mom..." Spike finishes for her.

"Yes." She whispers, the tears falling in droplets from her green eyes. They rest in his blue ones and there complete understanding. "I...can't...do this anymore, Spike. I can't stay disconnected. Unattainable. You of all people..."

"You can connect, Summers. We connected quite a bit." He tries to smile for her, but she let's out an exasperated breath and walks away from him.

"That wasn't connecting, that was fucking." She states bluntly, looking him in the eye again. Her words cut him and he winces and looks away. "That's what made you so hot for me wasn't it? You couldn't really have me? Is that why you _don't want me now?"_

"Wasn't talkin' about that. But since you've brought it up again...I thought we were past...the past, but-"

"Oh no...no no no no...we are not talking about this now." Buffy turns her back on him.

"No, you brought it up. I've hummed along with your pity ditty long enough, now it's time for a new song." He jumps up just as she settles on the far end of the sofa. He stops in front of her, glaring. "You...are bloody insufferable!"

"Way to cheer me up, Spike." She smirks angrily.

"Not tryin' t' bloody well cheer you up, am I?"

"Then what _are_ you trying to do? I'm tired. I want to sleep." She huffs.

"I'm pissed off, is what. Something pissed me off..._unattainable...that was it."_

"Fine. I take it back. I'm a freakin' attain-a-thon. Happy?" She leans back and closes her eyes actually wishing that he would go away.

"No, Summers...listen." He crouches down in front of her. "Look at me." She does. He sighs.

"Look, pet...I've been alive a lot longer than you have, and I've seen a lot more than you. Made a lot of mistakes and a _lot of bad bloody calls." He smiles a bit and she tentatively returns it. "I've been alive over a hundred years and there's only one thing I've ever been sure of...that's you."_

Buffy looks away, but he catches her chin in his hand and gently pulls her back to him.

"I love you, Buffy," he says softly. Simply. A tear falls down her cheek. "Not because I want you or because I can't have you. I love what you are, what you do, how you try. I've seen your kindness and your strength...the best and the worst of you." He wipes the tear from her cheek and smiles, his voice softening even more.

"I understand with _perfect_ clarity what you are. You're the most incredible woman I've ever known. You're the One."

Buffy closes her eyes. This is not what she wants to hear right now. She knows he loves her, but she needs more. Wants more and yet she is so afraid. 

"I don't want to be the One. Let Faith have it." She says softly, opening her eyes to study the hand that has clasped hers.

"Well...I don't want to be this good looking and athletic, but we all have our crosses to bear." They both smile now. Buffy looks back at their joined hands and Spike follows her gaze. His sudden discomfort causes him to rise and turn away.

**Bloody hell.**** Not a good time for emotional cricket, you soddin' git.**

He runs his fingers through his hair and is about to say something when it hits him. He turns back to her.

"You said 'now.'" His query confuses her.

"Huh?"

"Before...you said I don't want you 'now'. What's that s'pose to mean...'now'?" Buffy's face falls. She looks up at him and decides it's now or never.

"I meant...now that...I...you don't want me now that I'm...it was wrong of me to say. I'm sorry." She looks down at her hands.

"Now that you..._what_?" He watches her stand and move around the back of the couch.

"Now that I want you." She looks up at him. "You don't want me now that I want you, Spike. And I do. Want you." Buffy steps around the couch and slowly approaches him. He is frozen in time and space.

**She wants _me? She _wants_ me? I-_**

She stops a few feet from him, bathed in candlelight. Tears dance in the rims of her eyes and she is looking at him in a way he's never seen before. He simply can't bring himself to move or speak.

Buffy studies his face. It's unreadable. She is too tired to reach out to his mind, so she uses his body language to gauge what he may be feeling. The only problem is she's getting nothing. Nothing.

**Oh God. He doesn't want me. Not like that. We're...friends.**

They stare at each other for what seems like hours. Buffy's heart pounds in her ears as she waits for him to respond to her obvious confession. Either he doesn't realize how hard that was for her to say, to risk rejection from him...or he really doesn't-

**Want her? She thinks I don't want her? Of course I want her! But not like this. Not for comfort. Oh God, Buffy, if only-**

Buffy sighs and begins to back away slowly, her heart breaking with each small step.

TBC with Chapter 21: The Bed's Too Big Without You

A/N: Of course I _had_ to borrow most of Spike's speech form 'Touched'. My God, how could I not?

That Buffy didn't throw herself at his feet right then and there is beyond me.

;^]

X


	21. The Bed's Too Big Without You

**Title:** The Bed's Too Big Without You  
Chapter 21 of Don't Stop the Dance) 

You asked for it, you got it: Spuffy lovin'! This is my first ever love 

scene, so "forgive me if I act a little strange for I know not what I 

do."

**Author:** Xionin

**Rating:** R

**Pairing:** Buffy/Spike.

**Feedback:** Pretty please! I'm addicted.

Lia: Your wish is my command. Look for a sweet D/S scene in the next chapter.  
Wolf116: I honestly can't figure out how Buffy could sit through that speech and  
not throw herself into his arms once and for all. ;]  
Albie: Yes, a little oversight on my part. I wasn't sure if Faith had been around then or not,  
but I just _loved_ the idea of her hearing it from Spike. Tee hee!

**Disclaimer:** Joss gave me free reign to write as much fan fiction as I   
want. Really. He did. It's in an interview somewhere. Just in case,   
though. ME, FOX, Joss Whedon, blah blah blah...

**Merci!:** Miss Kitty the Supercalafragilistic-beta!

The Bed's Too Big Without You

**Cor, she is so fucking beautiful**. Spike thinks to himself.

To him she looks better than anyone in the middle of an apocalypse has   
a right to. And that she seems so suddenly open and so vulnerable makes   
her more beautiful still. Her green eyes sparkle with unshed tears. Her   
cheeks are flush with pent up emotion. Her lips, glistening, so utterly kissable that...

He takes the two steps separating them and claims her mouth.

A tiny voice in the back of his head asks him who the hell he thinks   
he is. But then Buffy begins kissing him back, and he tells that voice to   
sod off. He wraps his arms around her small frame, feeling the heat of her soft body   
through the roughness of the terrycloth.

Spike can't remember a time when he's felt more desire.

Desire to live.  
Desire to please.  
Desire to...just desire.  
  


Only one woman has ever made him feel like he'd been set aflame and she is in   
his arms right now threatening to consume him again.

Just a moment ago he had been completely coherent, intent on saying his 

peace and standing by her with no regrets. No delusions that she could ever 

love him back.

Now he is devouring her as surely as she is devouring him and it has   
him mindless with pure need. His fingers slide up and loosen the silken   
strands of her blond hair even as he slants his mouth over hers,   
changing directions as if no one direction allows him to get close enough;   
deep enough. She tastes of strawberries and warmth and is hotter than   
fire. Hotter than the sun he vaguely remembers from his youth.

Buffy's head is buzzing with a thousand memories. The first time she'd   
seen him, all spit and swagger. The first time he'd touched her and the   
fear she'd felt. The first time that he'd touched her and she realized   
she was no longer afraid. The time he comforted her during her mother's   
illness. The moment he first said "I love you." The way he looked at   
her, all bruised and battered from Glory, when she'd first kissed him.   
The way he looked at her coming down the steps when he realized she was   
alive. The concern on his face when she'd told him that she had been in   
Heaven. The way he managed to smile only for her and just when she'd   
needed it. Their first kiss after Sweet was sent back to Hell. The relief   
in his eyes when she'd come to get him out of the caves a few weeks   
ago. The memories of his constant love for her are flooding her.

**My God! I'm drowning...I'm...**

Buffy breaks the kiss, inhaling deeply. She slowly releases herself    
and backs up a few steps. There's a sound of a protest from him in   
the form of a sharp breath, but she squeezes her eyes shut, turns and walks further  
into the house to the main bedroom. Spike follows her, glancing quickly  
over to the second bedroom where Dawn lays sleeping. Once inside with Buffy,  
he closes the door behind him and waits.

Buffy can feel him staring at her. He can hear her heart pounding in his head.  
She turns back to him as her tongue darts out to moisten her swollen lips.  
She thrusts her hand out and he stares at her fingers as if they belong to someone else.  
Spike squints at her as he slowly steps closer. He hears her swallow thickly before she gives him a   
half-smile.

"Another time...another place...maybe-" she says softly.

**Maybe, hell. **He thinks to himself. They need each other _now_. **Everythin' and everyone else be damned!**

Buffy gasps as Spike uses their joined hands to bring her closer to him.  
She is barely aware of breathing as he releases her fingers and takes her   
face in his hands.

"What do you want Buffy," his voice is a caress against her cheek, in   
her ear.

**God if you only knew, Spike. You! All of you Spike. I want- I...**

"Buffy-" Spike is desperate to maintain control in his voice. He can feel her want.  
Her need. It equals the intensity of his own. He doesn't know where he'll go if she rejects him.  
He thinks he might just walk out into the sun. "What. Do. You. Want?"

Her heart still hammering in her chest from the kisses and the question,   
Buffy closes her eyes slowly and decides to let go once and for all.

"You."

Spike pulls back to look at her; to make sure she understands what she's saying.  
Seeing his hesitation, Buffy steps into him and gently places her lips atop his,  
kissing him in a way that leaves no doubt of her intent. A tiny voice is telling her  
that there is no time for this. That it is wrong, even though it feels right. He doesn't  
love her this way. He wants her, yes, but it's not love. Not anymore.

  
But even as her conscience whispers into her inner ear, the feeling of having him so   
near again overwhelms her, silencing the voice with another one that whispers...

**But I love him.**

Never, ever has Buffy wanted anyone like she wants Spike right now. She   
slides her hands up his torso and under the collar of the duster,   
spilling it to the floor with a satisfying thud. Her right hand rests on his   
firm chest as the other fingers the nape of his neck pulling down   
closer. When Buffy captures his bottom lip, playfully tugging and biting,   
Spike groans with hunger and deepens the kiss as he gently places his   
hands on her waist.

He can smell her arousal and feel her heat. His head is  
spinning, he wants her so badly. Soon, one hand slides down to the damp skin of her bare   
bottom and the other to the small of her back as he pulls her against the   
evidence of his arousal.

Hungry mouths kiss and pull and suck; hands seek and knead and squeeze.   
Before either knows it, Spike is pulled out of his clothes even as they   
drift towards the borrowed bed. He fists the fabric of the towel around   
her and removes it with little effort, audibly gasping at the sight of her.

**So bloody beautiful.**

As Buffy reaches down to pull back the sheets, Spike catches her hand.  
"Are you sure, luv?" His voice is raspy with longing.

The look she gives him sends a shiver of pleasure down his spine. The   
air between them is so incredibly hot that he is surprised he doesn't   
spontaneously combust on the spot. Together they sink onto the mattress as   
Buffy's thighs land on either side of Spike's leg. Something inside   
both of them breaks and their mouths come crashing together again and   
again, leaving each of them panting as he rolls on top of her.

As his lips touch hers, another shock of electricity passes through him.  
He gently circles her tongue with his and they dance playfully. Breaking away from her mouth,  
his tongue moves down the side of her neck. Kissing and licking, he buries his face in the  
curve of her shoulder at her pulse point. Buffy pulls him closer, her  
fingers kneading the cool flesh of his buttocks.

"Buffy...God..." Spike's kisses trail down over the tops of her breasts.  
He finds one rosy peak and quickly flicks it with his tongue before taking it into his mouth.   
He repeats the action with its twin within moments. The moan it elicits and the arch  
of her back makes him feel like he could single-handedly defeat the First. He can feel the   
evidence of her need scorching him where it rests against his thigh.

Buffy moans loudly, heedless to the fact that her sister is sleeping in   
the other room. Spike is licking and sucking any area of skin he can   
find and his undulations atop her have her spinning out of control; the   
hard muscles of his thigh between her legs unknowingly driving her   
towards the edge.

"Spike..." She is pleading and he pulls his head up and looks into her   
eyes. Both of them stop their movements. He is looking at her with that  
look again; that look of awe. The one that says _you are my whole world.  
She cannot remember the last time he looked at her this way. Even   
though his eyes are still always filled with love, he'd been hiding this one.  
It had been replaced by something else: Longing. Patience. Sometimes resignation._

Before, he was always waiting: For her. For them.

They stare at one another for a long time before he slowly lowers his head to hers and  
kisses her. This kiss simmers as it grows hungry and demanding. Suddenly every  
molecule of air exits Buffy's lungs as Spike fits himself between her legs and  
slowly enters her, filling her not only physically but permeating every cell  
of her body, her mind, her soul, her heart.

She clutches at him, her hands pressed firmly against the hard flesh of his back.  
Opening her eyes, she looks up into the endless sky of his blue eyes and wonders  
how she ever let him go. How she would ever be able to let him go again.

Buffy can barely register how incredibly good he feels within her.  
Can't even begin to fathom what he is thinking.  
She can concentrate on little more than the storm swirling inside her.  
The tidal wave of feelings she'd denied and beaten back so often and for so long that  
it scares her to think that they're free to roam around in her wounded heart.

They move in unison, each knowing the other's rhythm so well. Perfectly   
in tune. Spike moans at the feel of her surrounding him, hot and wet   
and softer than soft; her muscles milking him, coaxing him towards his   
release. Her little mewling noises are sending him rapidly towards the edge.   
She is engulfing him and he doesn't know where he ends and she begins.

"Oh God...Spike...need you..." Buffy's breathing is labored   
as he drives into her, their speed ever increasing. Her hands roam all   
over his back, one slipping between them to tease his nipple, which   
elicits a gasp or three.

"Cor..pet...oh...God Buffy...oh...so sweet" His voice is rough with   
hunger, but it is honey in her ear and it sets off a small earthquake in her very core.  
Buffy wraps her legs higher around his back, allowing them to reach a new angle.  
Both exhale a low moan, singing their ecstasy in unison.

Moving at a frenzied rhythm, they ascend together and when they near the crest,  
his hands travel up her arms and their fingers lock into each other along with their eyes.  
They hold on for dear life as, at last, the wave crashes over them. Their mouths come together   
greedily as the orgasms roll over them again and again, threatening never to release them.

The kisses become slow and soft as they both come down, still buzzing   
in the aftershocks. Spike disentangles their hands and brings his   
down to her face, smoothing back her hair. Her eyes are closed and tears   
escape from the corners only to fall to the pillow below. He rests his forehead  
on hers. 

"Buffy..." His breath is cool against her neck.

**I've** **loved you for so long. I'll love you forever. Always.**

**  
**He buries his face in her hair and quietly joins her in weeping.

**I love you, my William; My Spike. All of you. Always. If only you knew...**

But neither knows. They cannot hear each other; they're too wrapped up in needless sorrow.  
Spike rolls them over to the side and cradles her into the curve of his body, and neither  
speaks a word.

Both are too overwhelmed with unspoken confessions.  
Both feel, for the first time really, that this is how this was meant to be.

But he says nothing.  
And she says nothing.

They just hold on to each other for what they both believe is the last time.  
Neither wanting to face the night when the other wouldn't be there.  
When their hearts would once again be broken and the bed would feel just...too big.

TBC Chapter 21: Hole in My Life


	22. Hole In My Life

**Title:** Hole in My Life [for Lia]  
(Chapter 22 of Don't Stop the Dance) 

Dawn and Spike have some moments alone.

**Author:** Xionin

**Rating:** R

**Pairing:** Buffy/Spike.

**Feedback:** Pretty please! I'm addicted.

**Disclaimer:** Joss asked me to bake him some cookies. I told him 10 minutes. 10 lousy minutes! 5 minutes into the baking he sticks his hand into the oven. Burning himself on the melting chocolate, he turns and looks at me grinning maniacally.

"Xio, didn't you now I like half-baked cookies?" 'Yeah' I told him, shaking my head in disgust. 'I heard.'

**Merci!:** Miss Kitty the Supercalafragilistic-beta!

Hole in My Life 

A thin, ray of sunlight slices diagonally across the other side of the room. Spike hears it burning through the remnants of cool, evening air. It's later than he thought if the sun is reaching this side of the house already.

**Haven't slept that well in a while. **He thinks to himself with a smile.

Tangled in the sheets, he suddenly becomes aware of the emptiness beside him. Buffy is gone.

He sits up, his curls sticking every which way, and runs his hand over his face. Getting out of the bed he grabs his jeans off the floor, jumps into them, pulls on his t-shirt and opens the bedroom door. The door to the second bedroom is open. No sign of anyone inside. There's no one in the bathroom either.

Spike frowns and turns towards the kitchen. Dawn is sitting at the table with a banana, looking through a National Geographic and munching away.

"You're up!" She grins at his appearance. "Sort of. Maybe you should take a sh-"

"Where's Buffy?" Spike looks around him for sign of the blonde.

"She…um…here." Dawn stands and hands Spike a folded note. "I didn't read it." Spike's face falls. His hand begins to shake as he holds the note in his fingers as if it were dipped in holy water. He's deathly afraid to open it. "Spike?" He continues to stare at the paper as Dawn calls his name. It's only when she touches his hand that he jumps and drops it to the floor. He looks up at her and attempts a smile.

"Sorry, bit…thanks." He bends over and retrieves the slip of paper. "How long 'as she been out?" He tries to squelch the sinking feeling in his stomach as Dawn explains.

"She left early. She said you gave her some information and she wanted to check it out." Sensing Spike's anxiety, she places her hand on his arm and he looks up at her.

"Spike. She'll be fine. We're supposed to meet her later." She smiles warmly. Spike returns it shakily. He is very concerned for Buffy's safety, but he is also worried that last night had done more harm than good for her. For them. She'd left without saying goodbye. Perhaps it really had been a mistake.

"Wanna banana?" Dawn asks, doing her best to sound cheery. Truth is she's worried too. She half-heartedly wishes it were nighttime so that Spike could have gone with her impatient sister. When she'd tried to get Buffy to wait, the only thing Buffy had said was that there was no more time for waiting. Those few words made Dawn nervous as heck.

"Nah." Spike turns from the kitchen and heads into the living room. He plops down on the couch and places the note on the coffee table in front of him.

**Bugger.**

**Last night was amazing: a bloody dream come true! She was so tender…gentle. She finally allowed me to show her how I feel, but…maybe it was too much; too intense.**

He sits back on the couch, resting his head on the cushions behind him and closes his eyes. He can still see her skin glowing in the candlelight. The look in her eyes. It was almost as if-

**Right.**** 'nough o' that.**

He sits up and grabs the note, opening it before he can chicken out. He begins to read, ignoring the shaking of his hands.

_Spike,_

_Sorry about leaving a note like this. I've never been good at morning-afters. OK, even I know that was a lame joke. I just don't want you to think that I didn't want to be here when you woke up. I really, really did. I didn't wake you when I left because you looked so cute and peaceful. I've never seen you like that before. I like it, so don't raise those eyebrows at me because I called you cute._

_Anyway, I thought about what you said and I think maybe you were right. I've gone back to the winery. If we have any sort of chance of beating this, I've got to find out what Caleb's hiding. I know you probably wanted to come along, but this is something I've got to do on my own. Just know that last night wasn't 'nothing' to me. It was 'something'. Maybe when all of this is over, we can sort things out. There's too much to say and so little time and I really don't want to put it here. So, we'll talk. OK?_

_Please look after Dawn. And yes I know you would even without my asking, so thank you._

_Love,_

_Buffy_

Love. Buffy.

Spike re-reads the note several times before folding it neatly and slipping it into his pocket. Love. Buffy. Seeing those two words in her handwriting with his name at the top sends fantastical daydreams through his head. He sits back once again and closes his eyes. Dawn is on her second banana in the kitchen, strangely content in these unfamiliar surroundings. He can hear her humming softly and it makes him smile.

What if this was _their_ house? His and Buffy's and Dawn's. They could be a family, couldn't they? **Sure in some parallel universe where insanity rules, you git**. He sighs heavily and gets up, walking back to the kitchen.

"Everything ok?" Dawn asks between bites.

"Yeah, niblet, s'cool" Spike smiles and runs his hand over the top of her head.

"Hey!" She pretends to scowl at him for rumpling her brown locks. "I don't even have a brush with me."

"We'll go back 'nd get your stuff, platelet, don' worry." He opens the fridge, half expecting to see a pint of blood. Of course there isn't any. He opens the freezer, which is rapidly defrosting with the lack of electricity, and pulls out a half-frozen bag of onion rings. Turning to the stove, he thanks the powers that it is gas and not electric. He turns on the oven and smiles at the whoosh sound of the pilot light.

"Well, it's not a bloomin' onion, but it'll do." He turns to Dawn and she rolls her eyes. He smiles wickedly.

20 minutes later the pair are picking over the tray of slightly burned snack food. Neither speaks and their movements are distracted and slow. Occasionally one will look at the other as if they're going to speak and then sigh and looks away. After 10 minutes or so of this, Spike finally breaks the silence.

"She's fine." He affects his most reassuring tone of voice as he states this to Dawn. She smiles appreciatively. He smiles in return, but it's obvious that he is having more trouble believing the words. Dawn studies him for a moment as he continues to pick at the tray.

"Spike?" He looks up at her.

"Yeah?" His eyes are soft and there's a hint of fear in them.

"Can I ask you a question?" She puts a burnt piece back on the tray and wipes her hands on her jeans. He nods as she levels her eyes in his. Blue into blue. "Are you still in love with my sister?" Spike's mouth drops open at the question. He breaks his gaze away from her face and looks at the floor searching for words.

"W-why do you ask, nib?" He rubs his hand across his forehead several times and stands up to clear the tray away.

"I'm not angry or anything. I think we've both gotten over the ugly stuff. Right?" She turns her body towards him.

"Right, well-" Spike sits the tray in the sink and turns on the water.

"So…be honest with me. Are you still in love with Buffy?" Dawn already knows the answer to her question, but she needs to hear him say it. She's watched the pair of them dance around each other for the last few days and she knows that something happened between them last night. Still, when Buffy had come to her this morning with the note, she'd seen the panic in her eyes. And now Spike is tangibly frightened to answer her simple question.

Spike turns his back to the sink and leans against it facing her. **Nope. No longer a little girl, she's a little woman. Asking difficult questions, she is. It's his turn to study her and he sees so much of Buffy in her that the smile reaches his lips before he realizes it. She smiles too.**

"You're a lot like her." She smiles wider. "And you both have so much of Joyce in you, it's incredible s'what it is."

"You're avoiding the question." She still smiles at the compliment, cocking her head to the side in mock impatience. For emphasis, she crosses her arms. Spike laughs.

"Yep, jes' like 'er. Alright niblet, I'll tell you the truth." Dawn straightens up and leans her elbows on the table.

"All ears." Spike crosses back to the table and sits across from her.

"And this doesn't leave this room." He chides. Dawn makes the motion of crossing her heart and puts up the scout's honor sign before resuming her attentive position. Spike's eyes twinkle as he smiles at her.

"I love you Dawn." Spike's tone turns very serious, suddenly. This catches the young girl off guard. Her eyes go wide and she fights the blush rising to her cheeks. "I jes'…wanted you to know that." He continues, his voice soft and full of warmth. He smiles at her.

"I love you too Spike." She beams at him and he closes his eyes. This is his girl. His Dawn.

"But you haven't answered my question." She smirks at him when he opens his eyes.

"Yes." He says softly. Dawn's smile fades as she watches the emotions overtake him. He is still smiling a little, but his eyes are incredibly sad. She hasn't seen that look since, well, since that summer.

"Does she know? I-I mean…have you told her?"

"No." His voice is even softer and a bit labored. Dawn frowns in confusion.

"Why not?" She asks innocently. Spike lets out a long sigh. He shakes his head and searches the ceiling for the answers.

"I…I can't, Dawn." He looks at her confused expression. "It…wouldn't be right." Dawn's confusion turns into disbelief.

"What? Wouldn't be right? What are you, nuts?"

'It…_this_…is a bad time…_the_ worst time, Dawn, for…all of this." He places his hands flat on the linoleum surface of the table. "We're in the middle of a war, nib."

"Which makes it the _perfect_ time, Spike. God! What if one of you doesn't-" Her voice trails off. "What if one of you doesn't make it out of this?" Spike studies her for awhile.

"It won't be her, Dawn. I promise you that. She'll not die. Not again." His jaw clenches a little.

"What if it's you, Spike? You'd be okay leaving her without her ever knowing?" Dawn trembles at the implication of her own words. **Spike dead? Buffy dead? What if I die?**

"She'll know. I've left…something for her. Listen-" he sits forward. "I left a letter for her, in my case…under the cot. When we go back there, I'll give it to you. I need you to make sure she gets it if…"

"A note?" Dawn takes serious offense at the notion. "You're leaving her a letter? Spike, you _have_ to _tell_ her."

He stands up exasperated. "I can't! Dawn, I can't!" He's trembling and his voice is breaking. Dawn jumps up and goes to him.

"Spike? What is it?"

"She doesn't…I can't do that to her again." He searches Dawn's face for understanding.

"She doesn't what? Doesn't love you? Spike, _of course_ she does!" Dawn's smile doesn't faze him though, he breaks loose from her and paces the kitchen.

"Listen, I know she loves me. I know it. Do you think I don't know that? I do. It's just-" He closes his eyes tightly willing the tears back. "She's not _in love with me, Dawn. She never could be. She'll always-"_

"Always what, Spike?" Dawn cautiously walks over to him.

"Her heart will never belong to me, niblet. S'just the way it is. She'll never be mine, not the way I am hers and God I can't believe I'm telling you this." He turns from her again. She reaches out and touches his arm.

"Spike. I don't know why you have this idea in your head, but I know my sister. She loves you. She loves you more than anyone in the world."

"No, nib, she loves _you_ more than anyone in the world." He smiles at her. She returns it.

"Ok, yeah, that's true." They both laugh a little. "But I know what I'm talking about. She's crazy about you."

Spike stares at her for a moment. Should he believe her? Dawn is very young, and maybe prone to flights of romantic fancy. But...

Dawn gestures towards the table and the both sit down. Spike starts to say something, but Dawn raises her hand for him to be quiet.

"You..." she begins, searching for just the right words. It's times like this when she wishes she could call upon the millennia or two of knowledge the 'key' supposedly possessed. Being a teenager in a world full of grown-ups and grown-up problems, well, let's just say it isn't all fun and games. More like all ghouls and vamps. Dawn sighs a deep breath.

"Spike. You are a fairytale." Spike frowns and draws back from her, but before he can protest she clarifies.

"You were the guy, the bad guy, that did everything under the sun. You were the villain." He lowers his head and nods. "You think I don't know what you were? You told me stories, yeah, but I also read about the exploits of 'William the Bloody' in Giles' books."

"Oh, Dawn, I-"

"No. Just listen, 'k?" Spike nods again. "I know you were the Big Bad. I _know that it isn't a joke, ok? Buffy knows that too. But...what we also know is that you've changed." Spike's eyes become incredibly soft at her statement._

"You really believe I've changed?"

"I _know you have, Spike. I can _feel_ it. Buffy can too." She smiles a small smile._

"Well...thanks, bit. You've no idea what that..." He chokes back the tears that threaten. **My girl.**

"You're the fairytale, Spike. You were evil and your love for one person changed you. It...what's that word...redeem!" She smiles at the discovery. "It redeemed you. You got back your soul, Spike. Your _soul_!" She pauses, looking at him as she shakes her head in disbelief. "Do you know how huge that is? Man, I thought that when Giles found out he'd be bombarding you with questions."

Spike rubs his hand on the back of his neck. "Yeah, well, Rupert wasn't too keen on havin' me back 'ere. I'm sure he wasn' thinkin' about me havin' a bloody soul or not."

"Do you hate him?" Her question takes him by surprise.

"Why? He has every right to not want me back 'ere, sweet bit. After-"

"Does he have the right to kill you?" A flush of color rises to her cheeks. Spike squints his eyes at her trying to suss out the cause.

"Why would you say somethin' like that?"

"I know what he did, Spike. Him and Principal Wood." Spike inhales an unnecessary breath.

"Who told you? Nevermind, it doesn' matter. Do you know why they...did that?"

"Well...no. I mean-  I know why Giles hates you, because of you and Buffy and you being William the Bloody and all." She smiles nervously. "But I don't get the principal. I mean he and Buffy only went on _one date." Her joke falls a little flat on Spike who is nervous-as-hell to tell her the real reason behind the assassination attempt._

"I killed his mum." Dawn's nervous giggles cease immediately. "She...was...a slayer. Like Buffy. Good. Very good. One of the best, from what I hear." He glances up at Dawn. Her eyes are saucers as she takes in the details of this latest revelation. "We danced. I won. He's been lookin' for me ever since." He finally rests his eyes in hers, ready to accept her disgust and eventual retreat.

"Ok, One, she was the Slayer. I'm not saying that what you did was ok, but you were a vamp and she was the Slayer which brings me to my second point. You aren't that person anymore, Spike." His expression turns from one of shame to confusion to awe. "You changed what you were, _who_ you were, Spike. That's pretty amazing." She smiles. "The person Principal Wood has been looking for all this time doesn't exist anymore." She reaches over and takes his hand in hers.

"I wish it were that simple, niblet." He reaches up his free hand and cups her face. "When did you grow up? I feel like I've missed so much." He smiles.

"You have." She returns the smile. "And you're going to miss more if you don't tell Buffy how you feel. How you _really_ feel." Spike let's out an audible sigh.

"Dawn...there are so many reasons for me to tell her and only one reason _not_ to." He folds his arms across his chest.

"What's the reason?" She asks softly.

"Wha'?" He's momentarily lost in thought. "Oh, well..."

"C'mon, Spike. What is it?" She folds her arms across her chest, mimicking his position.

"I..." He looks off to the side looking for a way not to tell Dawn the truth. Finally meeting her inquisitive gaze, he gives up any hope of lying to her. "Angel."

Dawn's expression changes instantly. She stiffens and blinks rapidly a few times before nodding her head. She has nothing to say to that. She knows the whole story. Of course, she thinks Buffy is crazy not to fall head over heels with this amazing guy sitting across from her, but Buffy's always been...well, Buffy. But still, she's was so sure that what she sees in her sister's eyes when they fall on Spike is more than friendship.

**It is definitely love. But in love? What if Spike is right?**

The pair sit in uncomfortable silence for a long while. Finally, Dawn thinks of a way to get Spike out of the funk she's brought upon him with her silly questions.

"Hey, why don't you tell me a story? Like you used to?" She smiles her sweetest girly smile at him. It used to work all the time. Still does, apparently, because when Spike looks up at her, he's beaming suddenly.

"What would my girl like to hear?" He says, his voice taking on its familiar cadence. Dawn rises and heads into the living room, gesturing for him to follow.

"I dunno. Something swashbuckle-y!" She grins as she throws herself along the length of the couch. Spike settles on the floor, his back leaning against the bottom of the sofa. Dawn idly plays with the curls on his head as he weaves a tale for her.

She's not really listening, though. She's thinking about him. What a miracle he kinda is. How she wants someone, someday, to love her the way that he loves Buffy: all fire and passion and completely overwhelming, defying everything in its path. Yeah. She wants someone like that. And if they happen to be devastatingly handsome, in a non-big brother kinda way, then that'd be cool too.

Spike's voice travels its peaks and valleys in the telling of his tale. It feels like old times to Dawn. When she closes her eyes, she can almost smell the cold granite and stale cigarette smoke of his crypt where she'd spent so many hours. The sound of his voice is so soothing that she soon drifts off.

Spike stops mid-sentence when he realizes Dawn is crying in her sleep. He kneels beside her and brushes a few stray strands of glistening brown hair from her face. His brow is knit with sorrow for this girl's loss. The loss of her mother. The loss of her sister. The loss of her innocence. The possibility that she'll lose her life. He closes his eyes and rests his head on her back, listening to her heartbeat, strong and fierce. Her breathing is normal now, and the tears have stopped, but her face is a picture of sadness. He lifts his head from her and replaces it with his hand, running it across her back in long soothing strokes.

"Shhh, Dawn. I've got you. Spike's here. Shhh, pet. S'ok" His voice is low, barely above a whisper, but it's enough to reach her in her subconscious. Her expression changes to one of a more peaceful sleep. He quietly slips into the second bedroom and retrieves the coverlet from her bed. Draping it carefully over her, he assumes a position in the armchair across from her to watch over her as she sleeps. He sits ready to come to her aid if she needs him. His girl. His Dawn. His and Buffy's.

She's the closest thing to a daughter he'll ever have. All he wants in the world is to be able to be with Buffy and to watch Dawn grow and become the beautiful woman that all Summers women seem destined to be. He closes his eyes and prays to no one in particular that he'll be granted the opportunity. He just wants to love them. Even from afar. He just wants to be allowed to love them. He'll do anything to keep them safe through all of this, sacrifice anything.

They are his life. Without them, even one of them, there's just too large a hole to fill.

TBC

Next chapter: Bombs Away


	23. Bombs Away

**Title**: Bombs Away (Chapter 23 of Don't Stop the Dance)

  
**Author**: Xionin  
  
**Rating**: R  
  
**Pairing**: Buffy/Spike. Other major characters included.  
  
**Feedback**: Mercy buckets!  
Hey **Pat** – happy reading!  
**Tracy** – I'm so glad you're enjoying this. Thank you so much.  
**William's Girl** – Wow. I'm honored that you've taken the time to read my fic. I am a big fan of As You Wish and check everyday for new chapters. If any of you haven't read it, make sure you do!

And as always thanks to everyone for reading and letting me know how I'm doing.  
  
**Disclaimer**: *sniff* Joss and I broke up. I let him have his way with me and he took advantage. When I woke up the next morning, he was already dressed and leaving. 'Why?' I asked him. 'You broke my heart!'  
He turned his beady little eyes on me and said "I love going for the pain."

**Notes**: Takes place during 'End of Days'. I'm having a bit of a re-write fest here. There were moments that I loved and couldn't bear to part with, so be kind.

  
**Muchas**** Gracias: Miss Kitty and Siobhan – Les Grandes Dames de Beta! **

Enjoy!

~Xionin

**Previously on Buffy [courtesy of UPN.com]:** Buffy's gone to the vineyard in search of whatever Caleb is guarding. She's found her old inner strength, and surprises the heck out of Caleb with a serious walloping. As they get into it, Faith and the girls find some Bringers guarding the mass of weapons in the sewer. Pow, bang, kablam: the girls do some serious damage. The Potentials defeat the Bringers, but Faith continues to look around, sure that there's something they're missing. Buffy smacks Caleb down pretty nicely, and slides into an uncovered trap door that drops into an underground chamber. Looks like the Bringers have been digging underground, and a beautifully crafted, deadly scythe juts out of a rock. They clearly couldn't remove it, but Buffy gets a wide smile, knowing she's found the object she's been searching for. Meanwhile, Faith finds what she's been searching for: it's a bomb. The explosion kills two trainees and leaves Faith incapacitated. The Potentials are faced with defending themselves. Buffy arrives in time to rescue them, and Faith, from the encroaching Ubies.

Bombs Away

Dawn stares at the dozing vampire across from her for a long time after she wakes up. He looks dead to her and it makes her uneasy. She studies his face, the lines of his impossibly high cheekbones, his dark brow, and wonders what it's like: immortality.

She's been alive forever, even if she only remembers the last 16 years.

She wonders what it's like to know you won't die from old age or illness; that the only way you'll go out is either in a ball of flame or a whirlwind of dust.

**Must make you feel powerful.**

Dawn sits up and stretches her long limbs. She notices some wetness on her cheek and dries it, curious as to where it came from. She vaguely remembers a disturbing dream, but the details lie just beyond her grasp. She stands slowly and tiptoes around the coffee table to stand directly in front of the blonde. Kneeling down she is careful not to startle him as that would be, well, stupid. Hello, Vampire?

Spike's skin is smooth and flawless, like water-polished marble. He reminds her of one of those armless statues she'd seen on her field trip to the Sunnydale Museum of Fine Art.

**Funny name for a place the size of this living room.**

She can see the beginnings of the dark roots creeping in on his preferred white hair. She smiles at the little curls begging to be set free of their gelled prison.

Standing again, Dawn glances over to the window. The sun is low in the sky; almost low enough for them to leave. She walks over to the door, opens it, and looks out. It's a ghost town. The only thing missing is the tumbleweed.

Stepping out and closing the door behind her, she sits on the step and takes in the peace and quiet of the early California evening. How many more will there be? Why hadn't she noticed before how amazing this time of day is? The air is golden in the waning spring sunlight. It actually makes her think of Buffy.

Dawn wonders where her sister is and what she's doing; what she's facing right now.

~~~~~~~

Spike awakes with a start. He hadn't meant to fall asleep, but in the absence of any sounds from the world outside, he had slipped into uneasy unconsciousness. He had wanted to watch over Dawn.

**Dawn.**

He picks up his head and looks over at the couch. No Dawn there, but he can hear her little heart beating. She's close. Just on the other side of the front door.  He stands up and glances quickly out of the bay window. The sun is pretty low. He quietly opens the door and steps out onto the porch.

She only acknowledges his presence by scooting over to give him room on the step. It's a very Buffy thing to do and Spike smiles despite himself.

They sit in companionable silence for quite some time. Both lost in thoughts they wish they didn't have the imagination to conceive. Death, destruction and pain are on the horizon. Dawn closes her eyes and inhales deeply. It causes Spike to look over at her.

"We should go home." Her voice is low and older than she is.

"Yeah, ok." He turns back to the street, but his arm goes around her shoulder. Dawn leans into him for a few moments, her eyes closed. Another tear slips out, but she brushes it away. No time to be the little girl anymore. This is a war for grown-ups.

When she sits up she looks at him and gives him a thin smile that he returns. Silently they both stand and head back inside to retrieve their things.

~~~~~~~~~

The walk home is without words: there isn't much to say. Dawn is still simmering from the previous evening's betrayal and Spike is nervous as hell about seeing Buffy again. As they approach 1630, Spike grabs her arm gently. She turns to look at him.

"What's up?"

"Nothin'. Jes'…look, don't make a fuss about…about last night." He says in a hushed voice. "Buffy needs to work it out with them on 'er own." Dawn looks down and mulls over his words. He's right. And she _was about to go in there and give them another piece of her mind._

"Yeah…okay." Spike gives her a smile. "But don't expect me to be nice to any of them." His smile grows wider and she rolls her eyes. They continue on.

Buffy is coming down the stairs, carrying the scythe, when the front door opens. She looks up from it and meets Spike's eyes. They both stare for a moment before Dawn speaks.

"Hey."

"Hey Dawnie…Spike." Buffy glances at her sister and gives her a quick smile. Dawn looks between the two of them and grins.

"D'you tell everyone off yet? Cause I kinda wanted to see that." She crosses her arms and smirks.

"No, there was no telling off. There was…an explosion." Buffy's brow crinkles and she looks at Spike who understands immediately.

"An explosion as in…?" Dawn tilts her head in confusion.

"There was a bomb." Dawn uncrosses her arms and her eyes go wide. "Faith…she's…"

"Oh my God, is…is she" Dawn's expression is the picture of fear and concern.

"She's ok, just banged up. Most of them…are alright." Buffy looks down at her feet and then up at Spike. His jaw sets as his lips form a thin line.

"How many?" He asks, his voice low.

"Two." Buffy's clip whisper is all she can manage. Dawn blinks back a few tears and hugs herself.

"I'll…I'll go see if I can help out." Dawn quietly slips away. Spike feels the overwhelming urge to hold Buffy, but he refrains instead turning his attention to the thing in her hand.

"So…" he nods towards the object. "You did it: Fulfilled your mission."

Buffy looks at the weapon and nods slowly. "You got the Holy Grail or…the holy hand grenade or whatever the hell that thing is." Buffy smiles a little and nods again.

"Right now we're going with scythe." She holds it up for his inspection. "You like?" Spike takes an instinctive step back, however tiny.

"Well, pet, pointy and wooden are not _my_ thing but…it's got flare." Buffy descends the remaining step, smiling at his attempt to lighten her mood.

"And…everything's okay here on the home front? Aside from…" He inquires hopefully. He knows how much Buffy needs everyone to pull together in this.

"Yep. It's all good." She begins walking towards the kitchen, but he dances in front of her, cutting her off.

"Look." He hesitates a moment before looking at her. "Last night…" Buffy's eyes dance for a moment, it confuses him but he continues. "It was just a glitch…a bit of cold comfort. Let's not…"

"Oh." The disappointment creeps in the Buffy's voice immediately. "But didn't you-"

"No. S'ok…I mean yeah, I read the note and I appreciate it. _Really_." He tries to smile, it doesn't reach the corners of his mouth. Buffy looks at him completely confused. She'd been so sure that he understood what last night meant to her, so there must be something else going on.

Maybe she had been right all along. Lust does not equal love, she'd learned that lesson the hard way. They would always be attracted to one another, but he no longer loved her that way. Did he? She'd thought she'd seen…something…in his eyes last night.

"Okay." She blinks a few times, her brow knit. **Something doesn't feel right about this. He's not saying something.** Before she can ask, he speaks.

"This…scythe…this is what the preacher was tryin' so hard to keep away from you, yah?" **Please oh please let's just change the subject, luv. I can't bear this.**

"Uh...yeah." Buffy had almost forgotten what she is holding in her hands. "Willow said it was forged forever ago and something about unconsecrated ground…a tomb of some kind, a-at the edge of Sunnydale Acres. I have to go there."

"Alone?" Spike feels a pang of fear.

"Yeah. Solo mission." He lifts his chin at the word 'solo'.

"Of course. I understand." He looks away.

"Understand? What's to- I have to do this on my own." She looks at him, a little annoyed now.

"Right…gotcha. No need to get _shir'y_." He matches her tone.

"Shirty? I'm not _shirty! And what is that anyway? Is that even a word?"_

"Look, Slayer, I'm not getting into this with you. You have to go alone? Fine. I'll just...go to the vineyard and make sure everything's nice and tidy for you." He turns and walks away. Buffy starts to go the other way, but runs after him instead. She catches him at the back door.

"You're a dope!" She calls out and he stops.

"I'm a _what?" He looks at her as if she's sprouted another head._

"You're a dope..a-a-and a bonehead…and you're shirty!" She yells, her hand on her hip.

"You're a bleedin' nutter, you are!" His mouth stays open in confusion.

"Do you see this?" She holds up the scythe. "_This_ could help me win my war. This…this could be the key to _everything and the reason I'm holding it is because of you!" Spike stares at her for a long moment._

**What?**

"Look…I said that last night was 'something' for me, not 'nothing' and not 'cold comfort' or whatever the hell you-"

"Buffy-"

"No! I'm tired of this, Spike. I don't know what you felt last night, but-"

"Terrified." He answers softly, before he can catch himself. Buffy stops mid-sentence and her voice softens.

"Of?"

"Of…" He looks at her and suddenly grows uncomfortable. "God…I'm such a jerk. I can't do this, Buffy."

**Can't do what? Us?**

"Spike…" It's a plea.

"Last night was…" He looks around for help. "It was…the best night of my life." He finishes quietly, looking at her for any sign of trouble. When she merely waits, he continues.

"I've lived for soddin' ever, Buffy. Done everythin'. Done things with _you_ I can't spell. But…" He sighs deeply. "I've never done that…made love…been close…to anyone: Least of all you." She looks down as the pain of their past flashes over her. "But last night...I got to hold you after-…and watch you sleep...and it was the best night of my life.

"So yeah…I'm terrified." He looks into her emerald green and tries to ignore what he thinks he sees there. He _knows_ what's coming. Willow had shown him. Even if Buffy does have new feelings for him, they will be gone the moment Angel arrives. That thought cuts him like a searing knife.

He's had one amazing night with the woman of his dreams and that is all he can ever hope for; ever dream of. Later he will look on it as a gift. Right now, he's in too much pain.

"You don't have to be." Buffy whispers. He looks at her perplexed.

"Were you there with me?" She nods.

"Yeah, I was." She looks at him with all the emotion swirling inside her.

"What does that mean?" He tilts his head. A smile plays on his lips, but he pushes it away.

"Don't you know?" She reaches up to touch his face but he steps back.

"No…no I don't. I can't." He puts his hand on the door. "And...this isn't the right time." She frowns at his withdrawal and finds it hard to hide the hurt in her eyes. **Why can't he see?**

"Y-you're right…but…maybe later, when-" She's grasping onto hope that what she is seeing in his eyes is exactly what is reflected in her own.

"Nah. Let's just drop it." He says, looking out the door. "We'll go be heroes." He smiles at her a little and walks out.

"Yeah." He doesn't hear her. She absentmindedly bats away a tear that has escaped her eye. 

Dawn walks in, quietly observing her sister. She hadn't wanted to eavesdrop, but she couldn't help it. These two are moving towards each other and they don't seem to see it. Something's in the way and Dawn can't see what it is. She only knows that time is running out for all of them. She'll never have what her sister has with Spike and it angers her to no end to know that they're wasting precious time.

"Buffy." Her voice startles the blonde out of her thoughts.

"Dawn...hey. Everything alright?" Buffy's voice is laden with fatigue.

"I'd say no." Dawn frowns in empathy. **How can I help them? I don't know much about this stuff, but this is stupid and has to stop. They're both hurting.**

"What's wrong?" Buffy forgets her own pain for a moment to concentrate on her sister. "Are you holding up ok? I'm sorry about leaving you at that house, but you were in good hands." She smiles a little.

"Yeah, I was. It's ok, but Buffy…what's going on with you guys?" Buffy takes a deep breath and sighs heavily.

"I don't know, Dawn. I thought…well, I guess it doesn't matter what I thought." She looks away exasperated.

"You thought what?" Buffy rolls her eyes. "Hey, I may be younger than you, but I understand relationships a-and stuff…a little bit...and anyway who else are you going to talk to about this?" Buffy looks at Dawn towering over her by quite a few inches and laughs.

"Huh, I guess you're no longer a kid, kid sister." She reaches up and runs her fingers through her silky, brown hair. Dawn smiles.

"So? Lemme help…if I can." She looks at her so expectantly that Buffy gives in, setting the scythe down and leaning against the doorframe.

"Spike and I…we're…God it soooo complicated! Why does it have to be so complicated?"

"I dunno. Always seems to be that way with you." Dawn shrugs and smiles. Buffy glares at her before she laughs softly.

"I do seem to have a pattern, don't I." It's a statement.

"But you and Spike have something that could be so amazing."

"What makes you say that?"

"Oh c'mon, I'm not blind. You are _so_ in love with him." Buffy blushes and nods, folding her arms protectively.

"Yeah," she whispers. "I am."

"So?" Dawn gives her the *duh* look. Buffy smiles at what she perceives as her sister's naiveté.

"He doesn't feel the same. We're just...close friends." It's Dawn's turn to laugh now.

"Are you in_sane_? Of _course he's in love with you. What're you, nuts?"  
**Whoa…déjà vu.**_

"No, Dawn, he isn't. I, in my infinite capacity to stomp all over anything good that happens to me, have succeeded in turning him away." Buffy grumbles.

"Well, that's not what _he_ said." She smirks. 

"What do you mean 'that's not what he said'?'" She stands up straight, turning towards her. "Dawnie?"

"This afternoon…we had a chat." Buffy's eyes light up and it makes Dawn smile before she continues.

"And?" **Dare I even hope that…**

"And he's totally _completely_ in love with you!" Dawn smiles big this time, watching her sister process the information. Buffy's heart skips a few beats.

"He…what? But…I don't…he said…" She shakes her head in disbelief. He's in love with her? Then why had he turned away again and again? "Dawn, maybe you misheard him…or…what _exactly_ did he say?"

"He said that he is in love with you, but that this isn't the time for him to make you all confused and stuff."

"Make me confused? But I told him…didn't I? Wait…" Yes she had said those three words, but not the fourth one. That's where the confusion is?

**Freakin****' semantics? **

"He also said…" Dawn hesitates to tell Buffy the rest.

"What, Dawn, what did he say?" Her head is spinning. How stupid she had been. How could he take her at her word? But then she'd try to show him, last night, and what had he called it "cold comfort"?

**Like last year oh GOD!**

"I...I don't think I should be the one…to…" Dawn trails off but Buffy understands. Spike had told her these things in confidence and she is breaking it by telling her. Buffy smiles at Dawn and embraces her.

"Dawnie…you're a good friend. And the best sister I could ever hope for." Dawn returns her sister's embrace and smiles. "Thank you for looking out for me." 

"Anytime." She pulls back. "So what are you going to do?" Buffy looks at the clock and grabs the scythe.

"Right now, I've got a mission. But when Spike comes back, don't let him leave. We'll have to talk this out tonight: Once and for all." Dawn smiles brightly.

"Yes ma'am. He won't get away." She mock-salutes.

"No…he won't." Buffy heads out into the night.

~~~~~~~

TBC Chapter 24: When the World is Running Down...


	24. When the World is Running Down

**Title**: When the World is Running Down… (Chapter 24 of Don't Stop the Dance)

  
**Author**: Xionin  
  
**Rating**: R  
  
**Pairing**: Buffy/Spike. Other major characters included.  
  
**Feedback**: Mercy buckets!  
**Lynne C.** and **Jude Space - you guys are inspirations to me.  
  
**Disclaimer**: Characters belong to Joss. The rest is mine all mine!!!  
Bwah ha hahahaha…**

**Notes**: Takes place during 'End of Days' and 'Chosen'

  
**Muchas Gracias**: Miss Kitty and Siobhan: What would I do with out you guys? 

Enjoy!

~Xionin

**Previously on Buffy [courtesy of UPN.com]:** Caleb is furious Buffy got away with the scythe. The First has "merged" with Caleb, and plans to do the same with everyone on earth to create a new world. Right now, though, it makes do with merging only with Caleb to provide him with strength, and for a moment, it reveals its true self. With Willow's help, Buffy finds the ruins of an unconsecrated burial ground behind the cemetery. She discovers an overgrown tomb and, once inside, she is surprised by an old woman. Once "one of many," the woman was one of the group that created the scythe hundreds of years before and placed it in the rock. It was made outside the knowledge of the Shadowmen (later called Watchers), which explains why Giles had known nothing of its existence. Since there was no one watching the Watchers, this woman became a guardian for the Slayer. "Perhaps you can beat the rising dark, she tells Buffy, "One way or the other, it can only mean an end is truly near." At that moment, hands appear behind the woman's neck and break it. It's Caleb; strong after his merge with the First, and he makes some progress in defeating the Slayer. He gets the scythe away from Buffy and holds it above her head, ready to make the kill, when an arm comes out of nowhere and clocks him. It's Angel. He helps Buffy up, and offers to fight Caleb, but she knows she must do it herself. Eventually, Buffy slices Caleb in the gut, and he falls. Angel smiles, enjoying the show. 

When the World is Running Down, You Make the Best of What's Still Around

"At least you could tell me you're glad to see me."

"I am." She says a little stunned at seeing her first love. "S'been a long time." She knows she's grinning like a schoolgirl, but can't help herself. Angel smiles at her reaction.

"Not so long that I've been forgotten, is it?" He steps closer to her and she begins to tremble. At the entrance to the tomb, Spike walks in but stops in his tracks when he sees the occupants. His eyes go wide and then narrow as he quietly steps back to observe from the shadows.

"H-how have y-you been?" Buffy's knees are about to give out. **Stop it! She chides herself. **What are you, 16?** Angel smiles a little more and tilts his head to the side regarding her.**

"I've been better, but it looks like time has treated you well. You look amazing." Buffy blushes and looks down. Spike clenches his jaw.

"Oh dear." The First appears at his side in the form of Buffy, he doesn't turn or even acknowledge it. His eyes are riveted to his love and her reaction to his grandsire. "Looks like you've been replaced…or…were you the replacement?" The First smiles.

"Uh thanks, you l-look...good...too." Buffy looks like a deer caught in headlights and she takes a moment to collect herself, stepping back a bit from the man in front of her. 

"I like your shiny toy." He says grinning, glancing at the scythe. "_Very scary."_

"And useful too." She giggles nervously, avoiding his eyes.

Angel smirks and steps around her to retrieve a folder from the wall. Spike slips further into the shadows so as not to be seen. He's more than a little miffed that neither of them has even noticed he's there, actually. The Slayer and Angel both should've sensed him right away. It is obvious to him that they're…distracted. His fists begin to clench.

**I knew this was comin'. Dammit, I knew it. Red was right.**

Angel hands Buffy the portfolio. "I know all about what you've been fighting up here. Sorry I couldn't come sooner, we had our hands full in LA." 

"Is this gonna help?" Buffy takes the dossier as she finally finds her voice.

"Yeah, I think so." Angel says admiring her focus. This is definitely not the girl he left 4 years ago. She's all woman now. Something tells him the experiences she's been through have matured her pretty quickly, but he also senses something else. Something he can't quite put a finger on.

"Is the source reliable?" She peeks inside the folder.

"Not in the least." He says chuckling.

"Ah, well…any port in an apocalypse, right?" She mutters. He steps closer to her.

"How are you really?" He tone turns serious. Buffy sighs and her shoulders sag a bit.

"I'm…alright, considering, but…"

"But? I get the impression something's going on with you; something _non-apocalyptic." He leans down to meet her eyes._

"That depends on your idea of an apocalypse. Things around here have been…tense." She tucks the folder under her arm and runs her hand down her neck; Angel's eyes follow. A shadow of lust crosses his features and it doesn't go unnoticed by Spike. He has to restrain himself from growling.

"Yeah, Spikey…" the First taunts. "She needs you _real_ bad." It laughs.

"Oh yeah? Well, have you considered a move?" Angel's not sure why he'd said the words, but the seed is suddenly flowering in his mind.

"A move?" Buffy looks at him questioningly.

"LA's got great shopping." His voice lowers intimately. It's the affect she has on him. 4 years and nothing's changes, well…seemingly nothing. She's more beautiful than he'd remembered. And she's more confident now. **Quite a gir- no, woman.**

Buffy's eyes go wide at his blatant offer. Spike's eyes close and he turns around only to open them again to the First grinning at him with her face.

"Wow, Spike. Guess last night really was 'nothing'." He does growl this time and walks through the apparition back out into the night.

"Are you…you want me to…" Buffy's mind is suddenly flooded with memories and possibilities. "But what about…"

"Buffy-" Angel steps into her and her head tilts up to look him in the eye. "I didn't come here with this in mind, but…seeing you again…maybe when this is finished..."

Buffy closes here eyes. **What is this? My God, I mean… Angel's asking me to move to LA?** Angel studies her face and he lowers his mouth to hers. When their lips brush each other, Buffy's eyes pop open.

**Angel. Kissing Angel. It feels…feels so…**

_You are going to be tested, Buffy. Tempted. Don't give in.  
You will know what is right and what is true._

**Wrong. It feels wrong!**

Buffy breaks the kiss and steps away from him, shaking her head to clear it. Just then, Caleb rises up and strikes Angel in the back of the head with a statuette. He slumps to the floor and Caleb steps over him.

"You ready to finish this now, you _dirty girl_?" He grins menacingly, his eyes streaking black evil. Buffy steps back, tossing the folder aside, and swings the scythe comfortably in her hand.

"Bring it on."

Caleb lunges after her and she sidesteps him, swinging around with the weapon but he ducks and grabs her arm, throwing her into the wall. It hurts. She slides down but jumps right back up clutching the scythe. Angel is still unconscious on the floor.

She advances first, this time, and gets a few good kicks in before he grabs her again and throws her first to the ceiling and then to the floor. She rolls out of the way just before his foot comes crashing down where her throat would have been.

"Stop dancin' around, girlie, you're only puttin' off the inevitable." Caleb's voice has taken on an otherworldly timbre, no doubt the effect of his infusion with the First Evil. He grabs the center of the scythe and twists her arms so that she almost loses her grip but then she pulls it, and him, towards herself; bringing her knee up to his head.

He stumbles back, momentarily fazed, but recovers quickly. He curls his arms and his fists and launches into another attack but Buffy delivers a stunning roundhouse kick to his face. It doesn't have the desired effect, however, as he simply absorbs the energy of the blows.

He reaches for her, but she ducks and brings the scythe, blade up, to his groin. She stands in front of him, watching the pain work its way across his distorted features. A moment later she wrenches the blade upward effectively slicing the man in half.

She is standing over the remains when Angel slowly returns to consciousness. He jumps up and spins around to face her.

"Okay _now I'm pissed! Where is he?" he looks at Buffy and then at the mutilated carcass on the ground. He opens his mouth in a silent 'wow.'_

"Guess he had to split." Buffy says cheerily. Angel approaches her with an enormous feeling of pride.

"And here I thought I was coming to rescue a damsel in distress." He smiles at her.

"Never been one for the damsel-ing." She smiles back, but when he closes the distance between them, she turns away.

"Angel…" She looks down.

"Buffy…think of it. I mean, I know we can't…but just having you there…" The more he thinks about it the more he wants it to happen. He'd just lost two people he loved deeply, it seems so wrong to waste time away from the one that still holds such a huge piece of his heart. Whatever there would be between them, Angel believes that they will always be a part of one another. It suddenly doesn't make sense for them to be separated any longer.

"I-I…Angel...it's tempting, but-" **I love** **Spike. She picks up the folder and pretends to skim through it.**

"But what?" Angel is beginning to suspect the 'something' he'd sensed earlier.

"I just...can't." She says, walking through the entrance. When she steps outside, the cool air feels so good; she takes a deep cleansing breath. Angel follows close behind.

"Can't or won't?" She ignores him. "Buffy…wait up…there's something else." She stops and turns around.

"What is it?" Angel holds out an amulet with a clear crystal center. "What's that?" He walks up to give her a closer look.

"I got it from the same place I got the folder. It's meant to help in the battle. It's supposed to worn by a champion."

"Me?" She reaches for the object.

"No. Not you. Someone ensouled but more than human…Me."

"You?" She looks at him, the surprise etched in her features.

"Yeah. I'll be fighting with you." He smiles.

"You're going to stay and fight?" She smiles disbelievingly.

"Til the end. Shoulder to shoulder." His voice softens. "I'm yours."

Buffy contemplates his words, but the meaning behind them sets in.

"No." She looks away.

"No?" It's Angel's turn to be confused. "What do you mean 'no'?"

"I mean no as in you have to go back to LA." She turns from him and walks further into the cemetery.

"Buffy, hold on…" He runs to catch up with her. "Why do you want me to leave?" she stops and turns towards him.

"Angel…if I lose…if this thing beats me…it could be days…_hours even before the rest of the world goes. I need you in LA. I need a second front." Angel squints his eyes and then he nods._

"O…K. That's _one_ reason. What's the other?" Buffy panics for a moment and she turns from him and walks a little further. She's not in any shape to handle Angel's reaction to her feelings for-

"Is it Spike?" His voice freezes her on the spot. She turns back to him as he approaches. "I have a pretty good memory of his scent."

"Um…can I just say gross?" She shuffles from one foot to the other and Angel picks up on her discomfort.

"Is it?" He stops in front of her, but she turns as walks even further. Angel laughs suddenly. "It _is_, isn't it? Geez, Buffy! Is that why you don't want to come to LA?"

"You don't understand!" She says, still walking. He runs up and catches her arm, spinning her around to face him.

"Damn right I don't! We're talking about Captain Peroxide here! You're throwing me over for him?" Buffy bristles at his tone.

"Spike's _different. He's changed...He has a soul now." That stops Angel's mounting anger._

"He…what?"

"He has a soul, but it's more than that. He…we…" She trails off.

"Are you in love with him?" Angel's voice has lowered to a whisper. "Is he…your _boyfriend?"_

"No." Angel sighs in relief. "But he is, in my heart."

"You're in love with him." He states rather than asks. Buffy merely looks at him and he can see it.

"_That'll end well all right." He snorts and walks over to lean on a tomb._

"I'm sorry, and what was the highlight of _our_ relationship? Would that be when you left me or when I killed you and sent you to a hell dimension?"

"C'mon Buffy, you can't _honestly_ expect me to believe that-"

"That what? I love Spike? I do. I'm totally, completely, head-over-heels, nutso facto in love with him. There. Happy to hear the words?" Angel's mouth drops open stunned. He closes it with a snap.

"But…it's _Spike!_"

"You know, you've been gone a long time. A long time! I can't _believe you'd waltz in here and expect everything…__everyone to be the same. We don't live in a bubble up here, Angel. People grow. They change."_

"Not Spike, Buffy, I've known him for over a century. He doesn't change." Buffy exhales sharply as she levels an angry gaze at him.

"You're bloody unbelievable!" Angel laughs out loud.

"Good grief, now you even sound like him!" He laughs again, and she soon joins him as the tension breaks. They gaze at each other for a while, both shaking their heads.

"So...tell me about _your_ Spike," he says quietly. She softens immediately as her feelings for the blonde lay themselves out in the open.

She tells him everything. Every detail, excluding the complete story about the time he'd attacked her. She tells him of his protection of Dawn, his enduring torture at the hands of Glory and the First. She tells him of his quest for the soul: everything. Angel slides down the tomb and sits on the grass. He is shaking his head in disbelief. This certainly doesn't sound like the Spike he's known for over a hundred years.

"And now…" Buffy sighs and sits next to him. "Now I've got to make him understand…I have to tell him…how I feel."

"Wait. You mean he doesn't know?" He turns to her, his brow knit in confusion.

"No. He doesn't. It's been a mess, Angel…a really big mess. I may have lost him, but I'm going to try to set things right. Tonight. I know he loves me, I just hope he can forgive me." She finishes softly. Angel places his hand on hers.

"Buffy…if I know Spike at all, I think he already has. But-" he takes her chin in his hand. "If he makes you happy, you've got to tell him. Now, before it's-." Buffy smiles, noting the pain in his features. He returns it. "Go to him."

They both stand and embrace. Angel turns to walk away. "Oh!" He hands her the amulet. "Here." She smiles and tilts her head.

"I have real issues when it comes to relationships, don't I?" She asks, turning the item over in her palm.

"Who doesn't?" He replies. "I think you've grown quite a bit, if you don't mind my saying."

"Yeah, well I don't feel so grown–up." She pouts. He smiles. **There's my Buffy.**

"You're still growing, Buff. Constantly. There's no rush."

"Yeah, I guess...I guess I've always thought that I needed to hurry up and get as much life in as possible you know? Before-"

"Hey, now, none of that." They both smile. "So…you see a future with Spike?" She takes a moment to think about that.

"Yeah, I do." She looks down so that she doesn't see the hurt in his eyes.

"It's okay, Buffy. _Really_." He lifts her chin and looks into her eyes. "I haven't seen this look on you, even when we were-"

"Oh Angel…don't compare."

"I'm not." He smiles a little, caressing her face. "It's just…I wish it could've been me." She smiles but doesn't respond. "But if he makes you glow…like this…" He pulls her into an embrace. "Spike's a devoted man, Buffy. If you let him he'll follow you to the ends of the earth. I do know _that much about him."_

His voice is a whisper in her ear. She closes her eyes relishing this one last time to feel him this close. She wraps her arms around him and buries her face in his chest. He strokes her hair. They stand this way for several moments, rocking slowly back and forth. It's the last goodbye. Finally she pulls back and looks up into his face.

"Part of me will always love you." He smiles and the tears tickle the backs of his eyes.

"All of me will _always_ love you, Buffy Summers." His voice falters as he crashes his lips over hers for a moment and then abruptly lets her go and walks away without looking back.

She stands there for a moment, a few tears dripping down her face. She smiles and looks down at the amulet in her hand.

**Meant for a champion. My Champion.**

~~~~~~~~

When Buffy walks through the front door, Dawn is standing there looking…rather cross. Buffy smiles and says "It slices, it dices and it makes julienne Caleb."

"You killed him?" Xander chirps from the dining room.

"Yep." Buffy grins.

"Way to go, Buff!" Willow smiles in relief.

Buffy turns back to Dawn who looks less than impressed. She wrinkles her brow trying to figure out what's wrong. Dawn huffs and kicks Buffy in the shin.

"Ow!"

"Dumbass." Dawn arches her eyebrow. It's very Spike-like. Buffy looks at her confused.

"What'd I do?" She turns to Xander and Anya who is massaging his shoulders.

"Don't look at me, Buffy. All of you Summers women are violent." Xander holds up his hands. Buffy frowns and looks back at Dawn.

"What's going on?"

"What did you say to Spike?" Dawn crosses her arms and taps her foot impatiently.

"Huh? I haven't seen Spike since I left. Is he here?" She attempts to step around her sister, but Dawn blocks the way.

"I don't know what you said, Buffy, but he came back from the cemetery in a _foul mood. He's been in the basement punching things for the last hour."_

"He wha-? The cemetery…I-I didn't see him th-…oh…oh no…" Buffy's eyes go wide and Dawn uncrosses her arms.

"Buffy, what happened?"

"Angel." She says quietly, bending to lean the scythe against the staircase. She hands Xander the folder.

"Angel's here?" He asks, taking it from her.

"He was. At the cemetery." Dawn's mouth forms an 'o' but she doesn't speak. Then the anger returns as her face goes red.

"And what was he doing here?" Buffy turns to Willow as Giles enters the room.

"H-he brought me that folder…it has information on the First. Stuff we can use." Giles puts on his glasses and takes the folder from Xander. "He said that the source isn't too reliable, but it's better than nothing."

"And that's what has Spike so upset?" Dawn asks her. "He gave you a folder?" Willow glances up from the files and looks at Buffy.

"N-no. He must've…he must've seen Angel…kissing…me." Buffy reluctantly looks at her sister whose eyes squint. Willow's eyes go wide, however, and she gasps. Buffy looks over at her.

"Yeah…exactly. Look, i-it was o-only a moment, and I pulled away, but to the right person…at the wrong time..."

"It could look like more." Anya finishes solemnly. Buffy nods.

"What's the big?" Xander says. "I mean _so what_ Spike saw you kissing Angel, which, I might add, is not a phrase I ever thought I'd hear myself say."

"Shut up Xander." Willow snips. She walks over to Buffy and Dawn who hasn't stopped glaring at her sister.

"Buffy…where's Angel now?"

"Gone. I sent him back to LA. Second front. He wanted to stay, but-"

"But?" Willow's expression becomes nervous. **Uh oh. Did I misinterpret the vision?**

"I told him about Spike."

"What did you tell him, Buffy?" Dawn's tone is softer. She knows how hard it must have been for her sister to see her first love and to tell him that she had a new one, especially given the history between the two vamps. Buffy merely looks at her. "You told him."

"Yeah." It's a whisper.

"Well," Dawn takes her sister's hands and squeezes them encouragingly. "Now you gotta tell _him_." She nods towards the basement. Buffy smiles and releases her sister's hands, steps around her and heads to the door. Everyone turns to watch her leave.

When they hear the sound of the door closing, they all turn to Dawn. Giles takes off his glasses and he looks at her.

"She's…"

"In love." Dawn finishes the thought, her head high. Willow frowns. Xander grunts.

"Well, duh!" Anya says which makes Dawn laugh.

"I don't understand." Willow says.

"That makes two of us, Will." Xander pipes in.

"No…n-not that, I meant…I saw them…together…her and Angel. I saw them kissing."

"How could you have seen that, Will, you've been here the whole night," Xander asks.

"No, I didn't _see_ _it, see it…I saw it...in a vision." She looks at Giles._

"Willow…would this be the same vision you showed to Spike?" She nods.

"Wait…" Dawn crosses her arms again. "You showed Spike a _vision? Of Angel and Buffy _kissing_?" Willow nods again as she winces. "And why?"_

"Yeah, Will…why?" Xander, Anya and Giles all stare at her in various degrees of confusion, disbelief and concern.

"I-I-I thought he should be prepared." She stammers.

"Prepared for what?" Anya asks.

"For _them, her and Angel. I didn't think she would turn him away, I mean it's _Angel_!" She begins pacing. "Look, I just wanted to make sure he would still stay and fight even if he knew she didn't want him." She wrings her hands and then holds them out as if to say 'see?'_

"But she _does want him, Willow. Wow! You don't know what you've done." Dawn's face is reddening further still._

"Dawn...what do you mean?" Giles steps around the table and approaches her.

"I mean you…all of you…you all _hate_ him so _much."_

"Dawnie, no, it's just-" Willow attempts to explain.

"What? He's not good enough?"

"He's a…vampire, Dawn." Xander cuts in. "I know that may seem kinda cool to you, but-" Dawn cuts him off with a sharp laugh.

"You people treat me like a goddamned child!" She glares at them all. "You're the children here. You turned on Buffy last night and today you act like nothing happened. She was _hurting_ but she still got up this morning and went on with the fight. She saved your sorry asses _again_ and you're still trying to manipulate her!" Giles clears his throat.

"I'm sorry Giles, is my using dirty words damaging your view of me? I. Am. Not. A. Little. Girl. And Buffy is _my_ sister. _I_ want her to be _happy. Spike makes her _unbelievably_ happy! Had you even noticed that?"_

They all look down, avoiding her accusing eyes.

"Of course not because it doesn't fit into your narrow fucking views!"

"Dawn!"

"What are you going to do, Willow, punish me? Haven't you done enough punishing for one day? Do you have any idea _at all_ how close we came to losing her last night?" No one answers. "She had no intention of fighting anymore. None. I cried myself to sleep because I just knew that you had finally done it. You'd finally crushed her." Her voice begins to break and Willow reaches out for her, but she pulls away.

"Spike brought her back to you…to us. I don't know what happened between them, but I _do know that whatever it was brought her back to me." She turns to Willow._

"That vision stunt of yours may have cost Buffy the only shot at happiness she'll ever get, Willow. Do you _get_ that?" She turns to the rest of them. "Do you even _see_ how much they _love_ each other? Do you care? Does it get in the way of your battle plan? Your lives?" They all stare in stunned silence.

"Then why?" The tears are flowing freely now, but she ignores them. Big girls cry too. "Why do you hate her…them…_so much_?" She is sobbing now and Willow does take her into her arms. Giles glances around the room and all of the expressions are the same: shame and guilt.

Willow meets Giles' eyes and she lifts her eyebrows as if to say 'I'm sorry, I didn't mean to.' Giles nods. Dawn straightens up and looks around at them once more.

"Please let them have this. They really, really need each other…and we could all die tomorrow." She finishes softly, turns and runs up the steps.

"Wow." Xander whispers.

"Yeah." Willow responds. They all gather around the table to look of the documents each determined to ignore what may be happening in the basement. They speak in hushed tones as the go over the new information.

~~~~~~~~~~

Buffy hears the grunts and the punches as she walks down the steps. Spike looks up when he senses her. He stops pummeling the bag and scowls.

"Hey." She says softly.

"Where's Peaches?" He grinds out.

"Gone." She steps closer to him.

"Oh. Stop by for a quickie then?" She winces.

"Good. Good. Don't hold back. I haven't had enough jealous vampire crap for one day." She walks past him and notices a rather crude caricature of Angel taped to the punching bag. She has to laugh. "Cute. Your work?" He ignores her.

"Buffy, I can't do this." He isn't angry as much as he is resigned. She softens.

"Do what…exactly?" She repeats her question from earlier.

"This." He points to the floor.

"Spike. I know why you're angry."

"M'not." He sighs. "Well…I am, but not at you. I'm…"

"What?" She steps towards him.

"I'm mad at m'self for believin'…you could…"

"I could…what?" She takes another step and forces herself not to smile.

"Let's not do this, luv." His voice is a hoarse whisper. She stops advancing when she sees how deeply hurt he really is.

"Spike-"

"S'ok. I know what he means to you." He whispers.

"No…you don't." She takes another step forward.

"Yes. I do. I used my enhanced vampire eyeballs to watch you two together. He still wants you. Can't blame 'im."

"Yes, part of him does want me. He asked me to move to LA when this is over." Spike feels a sharp pain in his gut. **Damn you, Angel.**

"I'm not going, Spike." He tilts his head and stares at her.

"Why not? It's what you've wanted."

"Is it really?" She takes another step.

They're less than a meter apart now. Spike searches her face, but he doesn't know how to interpret what he sees. She smiles and reaches across the distance between them to caress his cheek. His eyes instinctively close as he leans into her touch. She steps into him. He looks down at her and begins to tremble.

She traces her finger along his jaw line, across his lips and down the bridge of his nose. His eyes go wide. She smiles again.

"Why did he leave, Buffy?"

"I don't need him."

"What do you need?"

"I need you, Spike." He inhales sharply and steps back from her.

"Yeah, w-well, y-you've got Angel breath."

She merely smiles. Feeling in her pocket, she pulls out the amulet.

"Wha's that?" He eyes the object. "A gift from pookie?"

"Angel said it might help us win. He said it's meant to be worn by someone with a soul that's more than human." She twirls the pendant in her fingers, watching the light play across the facets of the cut crystal. Spike is mesmerized for a moment but then he puts his hand out.

"Hand it over, then."

"Why?" She grins.  
  


"If Angel was meant to wear it, and you sent 'im away, that leaves me."

"It's volatile. We don't know what-"

"So? You'll need someone strong, unless you plan t'have Super Andrew wear it."

"It's meant to be worn by a champion." She states softly. His expression changes then as he realizes she doesn't mean to give it to him. He lowers his head embarrassed to have thought himself worthy.

Buffy steps to him once more and she takes his hand. He looks up at her before watching her place the amulet in his palm. His gaze darts back to her eyes and Buffy can see the truth dawning on him as his mouth goes slack with amazement.

"Buffy-" his hand closes around the charm. He looks at her with complete awe and wonder in his eyes. "'Been called a lot of things in my day." She smiles with pride.

"Everyone is always so sure they know what I want." She says quietly, again tracing her fingertips across his features. "Everyone is always _so sure they get me." She looks up into his eyes and sees the tears glistening there. She places her hands on either side of his face and brings his forehead to meet hers. He exhales slowly._

"Buffy." It's softer than a whisper. She closes her eyes.

"I'm in love with you, Spike." 

There is a brief moment of absolute silence. They are in a vacuum.

**Oh God, Buffy, I am so desperately in love with you.**

Buffy opens her green orbs and looks into the purest blue she's ever known. She is trembling now.

"Say it out loud, Spike. _Please_. I need to hear you say it." Tears are dancing in her eyes now too. Spike reaches up a trembling hand and wipes some of the salty liquid from her cheek. He shuts off his gaze for a moment and then looks into her green pools determinedly.

"I…am in love with you, Buffy Summers." His voice is strong despite the shaking of his knees. Buffy smiles through a frown and then dissolves into tears as she melts into him. He crushes her to his body and rains kisses all over her hair and shoulders.

After a few moments, they pull back simultaneously. Spike wipes her cheeks again and she returns the favor. They look on each other with a new recognition. There are no barriers left. It's all out in the open, finally. They can hardly believe it isn't a dream.

Both gazes drift southward as they lock onto each other's mouths. Spike leans in hesitantly and Buffy tilts her head. Both sets of eyes slowly close as their lips meet.

The kiss is oh…so…soft.

It brings more tears out of the pair, being better than they'd ever imagined.  
Love tastes so different when it's equal on both sides.

They move together instinctively and Spike lowers Buffy to the cot. He walks across the room, his eyes never leaving hers, and turns off the light. The moon casts thin ribbons of silver across the room. They hit the angles of his face and make his dark blue sparkle. Buffy loses her breath at the sight of him.

He walks over and climbs into the space between her body and the wall, bringing her close and wrapping his arms around her possessively. His touch is gentle. Buffy sighs and lays her head on his chest, draping one arm across his waist. She traps his thigh between hers. He strokes her back in small circles and kisses the top of her head.

Buffy closes her eyes and soon her breathing slows as she slips into contented sleep.

Spike follows closely behind but occasionally he wakes and squeezes her closer to him, afraid it's all a dream.

~~~~~~

Tonight, for them, is more glorious than anything in Heaven or on earth.

It's been a long, difficult road, but this night they get to rest.  
This night, things make sense.

They know they can't hold on to this; that this is only a moment. They know that moments don't last and that they slip through your hands despite, or perhaps because of, how tightly you grasp them.

The world is running down and tomorrow they may face death.

But tonight...

Tonight theirs' is a world of beauty: a moment of love.  
There is peace to be found and they find it this night.  
They find it in each other.  
  
Tomorrow they may say it was too little and too late.

But tonight...none of it matters.

TBC Chapter 25: Can't Stand Losing You

Author's note: I must thank Mary Anne over at BAPS for unknowingly helping me with the ending to this chapter. She wrote such a beautiful post about Spike and Buffy's scene in "Touched." I paraphrased some of it here.


	25. Can't Stand Losing You

**Title**: Can't Stand Losing You (Chapter 25 of Don't Stop the Dance)

  
**Author**: Xionin  
  
**Rating**: Strong R this chapter.  
  
**Pairing**: Buffy/Spike. Other major characters included.  
  
**Feedback**: "Thank you. Thank you. Thank you." Moby, after every song in concert.  
**SilverRain** – You know I can't tell you what's coming up. I'm not a bad person, though. No, honestly. Hey, stop laughing! :]  
**Wolf116** – I really wish they had done more with Dawn. I read recently that Joss wanted to, but her arc got swallowed up in the grand scheme of things. Too bad they just made her whiny and inconsequential. She's quite pivotal to my story. Hint hint.

  
**Disclaimer**: Q: What should fans do now that they'll have an extra hour free in their schedule? A: "What should they do with that hour? Write fan fic." Joss Whedon, About.com

**Notes**: The basement scene. What else can I say? The stares meant something to me.

  
**Muchas**** Gracias: Miss Kitty and Siobhan – You guys, like, totally rock! Totally!**

Enjoy!

~Xionin

**Previously on Buffy [adapted from UPN.com]: **Buffy is confronted by the First as Caleb. He gives the requisite "I'm going to rule the world" speech again, but Buffy's not afraid. She is shaken, however, when the First morphs into an exact replica of her, like she's looking into a mirror. The First tells Buffy she lives her life alone and will die that way. When it disappears, Buffy comes to a realization: "We're gonna win." She has a new plan that requires some serious Willow mojo. Giles loves the idea, but Willow's nervous. She's afraid she won't have the control to follow through with the spell she'll have to perform, but Kennedy promises to buoy her up. That night, it appears Giles and Xander are mapping out their positions for tomorrow, until it's revealed they are playing a handwritten wizarding game with a red-caped Andrew, Amanda and a snoring Anya.

Can't Stand Losing You

This may be it. The final night. The last moon.

Buffy sits quietly on her front porch wondering why this End of Days seems so...end-y. But it doesn't really matter why. It just...does. It's now or never and she is ready.

She looks out at the darkness of the once vibrant neighborhood and wonders if they all know what's coming. She wonders if they feel safe, now that they've left. Do they feel protected?

She once thought that when this night did come, the eve of destruction, that she would be petrified.

She isn't.

Because she isn't alone anymore.

She has a family again and it feels so right that nothing

can ever be wrong again. Different maybe, but never wrong.

And for better or worse, after tomorrow, she will have changed the world.

-----------

**Champion.******

Spike twirls the amulet in his fingers, watching the ambient light dance in the facets.

He hopes to God he's strong enough to save her this time.

Grateful for the opportunity to stand by her side, he has no intention of letting her down.

She's placed so much faith in him: so much trust.

It's more than he deserves, but he will not turn away from it.

He'll embrace it, and her, and their makeshift family and defend it with his all.

But it's not just about her anymore; it's about all of them and this world they live in.

He'll fight because it's the right thing to do.

If that makes him a champion, then so be it, but he isn't looking for glory or honor.

There may be no redemption for a soul as steeped in blood as his. No reward for good deeds that are laughably outweighed by bad ones.

But if he can do anything...anything at all, to right some of the wrongs, he will.

Not for her, but for everything and everyone: For himself.

-----------

He feels her coming. Whenever she enters a room, any room, the energy always shifts. She is a flashlight in the darkness.

Her presence is stronger now, fueled by what they share. She is the undercurrent of everything he's ever wanted or loved: needed or craved. 

She walks down the steps on a pillow of silence. The worn wood doesn't even complain with its normal creaking; just accepts her footfalls with silent reverence.

When she reaches the bottom, he is already standing...waiting...watching. She stops to look at him in his sculpted perfection and bare feet. He is a cool flame to her moth.

In the space of less than a minute, their eyes say everything because there are no words: not anymore. In sync they move to one another. Slowly and deliberately they close the space between them. It is a dance; a movement towards healing the final rift.

The first touch of her body sends waves of emotion through him. He has waited two lifetimes for this moment. Her eyes, glittering dark jewels, rest in his. She has been waiting as well, and it seems just as long.

She reaches out a trembling hand and runs it along his jaw line and across his collarbone. He inhales sharply, burying his hand in her soft tresses and then bends to kiss her. She kisses him back, shaking with desire, with need, winding her arms about him, until he lifts his head and breathes her name. His arms, so full of strength, pull her close to him, willing her to feel everything he is offering.

This is what she's yearned for, dreamed of, for months now. It's been so long since he's kissed her like this, touched her like this, his hands finding the curve of her throat where it dips into her shoulder, thumbs brushing the sensitive underside of her breasts. His gentleness, something she'd vehemently denied him last year, had somehow always managed to slip in there when she'd stopped fighting for a little while. Now she longs for it.

The other night, he'd said, was the first time he'd made love: the best night of his life. She is determined to show him how wrong he is. Tonight will be the first; the best.

They break apart and gaze into one another. Buffy slips her delicate finger beneath the hem of his t-shirt and traces her nail along his abdomen. He shivers as his eyes close and his lips part in a gasp. She pulls the fabric upwards and over his head, kissing the smooth skin of his chest before pulling back. He opens his eyes into hers and reaches for the lapels of her jacket, sliding it over her arms and dropping it to the floor.

He busies himself with the buttons of her shirt and inhales slowly when the soft light hits the golden flesh of her naked breasts. He runs his hands lightly down her arms. She undoes the buckle of his belt, never taking her eyes out of his, opens his jeans and slides them to the floor, lowering herself and tasting him as she descends. She licks the sensitive skin around his pelvis in quick movements and he jumps with a start. His head rolls back when her warm mouth finally covers him. She moans and he feels it humming in his gut.

Overcome by the sensations he bends down and pulls her to her feet, lifting her he carries her over to the small bed.

He carefully sets her down and goes to work on the fastenings of her jeans, removing her shoes with them and casting them aside. She leans back and stretches out for him, reaching her hand to guide him to her, as if he doesn't know the way. He slips the thin silk of her panties down her tanned legs, kissing all along the length of them and back up.

Their mouths come together again and he smoothes a palm over her breast as she arches into him. Her legs tangle with his as he settles on top of her. She runs her hands down to his lower spine and he plants butterfly kisses on her face and neck, his mouth wreaking beautiful magic on her soul.

He kisses her chest, suckling her nipples like a newborn, relishing her taste, the velvet feel of her — the way she moans in response. Her breasts bud for him as he takes them in his mouth.

She lifts her hips against him as she wants...needs...more. He continues kissing down her stomach, over her abdomen, leaving a damp trail in his wake. He is nipping and licking her soft skin, taking all of her now that she is finally his.

Buffy shivers when his tongue dips into her navel, his hands going under her lush, firm bottom as he continues to slide down. When he suddenly presses his face into her dark curls, inhaling deeply the intoxicating scent of her, she gasps aloud.

He brushes his cheek against the softness of her inner thigh, cuddling her. His powerful hands are at once so gentle, and yet so assured as he stokes the fire of her want for him.

All he's ever wanted is all of her: every small taste and touch.

Her fingers tangle in his hair, as her desperation overtakes her. Sensing her need, Spike parts her velvet folds. He leans in close until he she feels his breath, and murmurs her consent. He kisses her reverently at first, savoring the tremble of her legs on his arms.

He wants to etch everything about this night into his memories.

Spike licks and teases her until she is taut and quivering with a building climax. It hits her unexpectedly and she cries out his name for the first time in over a year, only it's different; so different it's as if she's never said the word before. Her back arches impossibly and her voice is wild with passion. He nearly loses control right then and there. Never has he heard anything so beautiful.

As she stills beneath him, he raises himself up to look at her. She looks like a goddess with her blond hair tossed across the pillow, her eyes heavy-lidded and her breathing heavy and strained. A thin sheen of perspiration covers her, making her luminescent.

He kisses his way up her body as she watches him, a smile playing on her lips. They part in a gasp as he settles himself between her legs and enters her. He kisses her breasts as she moves under him, accommodating him: silently begging him to fill her up once more.

He drives into her slowly at first, deeper and harder on each stroke, until she holds all of him and he can feel the reflexive clenching of her inner muscles. He cups her head in his hands and claims her mouth again as he continues rocking back and forth, trying to meter his thrusts and languishing in the gentleness where before he'd only been allowed the hard fast ride.

She wraps her legs around him, locking her ankles at the small of his back. Squeezing his eyes shut and burying his head in her shoulder, he fights for his rapidly diminishing control. He wants to watch her face as she comes, so he slips his fingers between them and lifts his head.

Her breathing becomes erratic again and he can feel her heart pounding beneath him as he increases the pressure of his fingers, making the friction unbearable.

Her eyes go wide as she stares into his, a tear slipping down the side of her face as she brakes once more. He smiles as he continues to thrust, loving the feel of her surrounding him.

"I love you so much, Spike," she says, still in the throes of her climax and he is gone. He groans long and low as he spills his seed into her. She feels it cool and electric in her womb and smiles as she gazes up at him. His eyes are closed and his expression is one of pure bliss. When his muscles finally relax, she pulls him close, her cheeks flushed. He places a hand on her chest and rests his chin, his blue eyes dark and sated.

After a few moments, he rolls to her side and pulls her close to him. They lay in a limp tangle, Spike still inside her, as he doesn't ever want to leave. They lose themselves in each other's eyes.

Green on blue. Blue in green. Mediterranean Sea. Distant nebula.

Buffy reaches up a hand and brushes away a tear from his face. She brings the finger to her mouth and tastes it. Spike's breath catches. She shivers and her smile fades.

They cling to each other as the realization of what's coming reasserts itself.****

"I couldn't stand to lose you, Spike." She whispers.

"You won't, luv. I promise."

TBC Chapter 26: No Time This Time


	26. No Time This Time

**Title**: No Time This Time (Chapter 26 of Don't Stop the Dance)

  
**Author**: Xionin  
  
**Rating**: R  
  
**Pairing**: Buffy/Spike. Other major characters included.  
  
**Feedback**: **Ilpopi – Thanks again for the tip. I am still learning the ropes of fan fiction, as you can see by my glaring omission of disclaimers, etc. in the earlier chapters. ****Wolf116 – Did ya like it? Huh? Huh? ;] **SilverRain** – Grab your box of tissues, honey, cause it's going to be a doozy.**

  
**Disclaimer**: Q: What should fans do now that they'll have an extra hour free in their schedule? A: "What should they do with that hour? Write fan fic." Joss Whedon, About.com

**Notes**: Well, this is the final chapter in this series, although there will be a short epilogue. I really hope you're enjoyed reading it as much as I've enjoyed writing it. I'm counting the days 'til Angel: the Series returns in the fall...for obvious reasons.

  
**Muchas**** Gracias: Miss Kitty and Siobhan – You guys are so amazing, it hurts.**

Enjoy!

~Xionin

No Time This Time

The morning arrives just like any other morning, only...more quiet. Gone is the fighting over the bathroom. Gone is the clanging of dishes in the kitchen. Everyone is cordial, polite to a fault. It may be their last day on earth and no one wants to spend the time bickering over stupid things. The kitchen is virtually deserted, save for Anya and Andrew. They decide that dying on an empty stomach is just unacceptable.

Dawn spent her evening hours picking out an outfit for school. She didn't know what else to do. She'd decided that, on her last day, she wanted to look and feel amazing: like a woman. She'd gone into Buffy's closet and pulled on a pair of black pants that had always been too long for her diminutive sister. She had no guilt about taking them. She knew Buffy wouldn't mind.

Wrapped in her robe, her hair still wet from the shower, Dawn sits at her vanity and moisturizes her face. She applies a very light amount of make-up. It's just enough to fulfill her desire to look good, but not enough to make her look older than her seventeen years. She plugs in the dryer and blows out her hair, adding a bit of John Freida to bring down the frizz.

She dresses in the black pants along with a black shirt that she'd purchased several months ago, when the mall was still open, but never worn. She steps in front of the mirror for inspection. The 2 inch heel on the boots gives her a little more stature. 

**Not bad. I'm actually...pretty.**

It would almost feel like just another day of school, if she wasn't preparing to kill or be killed. She tucks the letter Spike gave her for Buffy securely in her pocket and pats it.

~~~~~~~~

When Buffy wakes up and looks at the clock, it's 6AM.

One hour before the bus arrives.

She tilts her head up and sees Spike watching her. His expression is so serene that her lips curl into a smile.

"Mornin'"

"Mornin' luv." His mouth forms the words, but his voice barely escapes his lips. "You slept." She had. She actually had, and like a baby. Funny what love will bring.

"Yeah." She runs her hand down the side of his face. "You?" She already knows the answer, of course. No.

"Didn't want to, luv." His voice, returning, rumbles beneath her chin in his chest. "Wanted t' make it last." The smile slips away from her lips. The sadness in his eyes is unmistakable.

"Hey," she says softly. "Don't be morose. Neither of us is going anywhere. I won't allow it." He smiles a bit, mostly at the tenacity of the woman in his arms, but also at the absurdity of their situation: A handful of people defending the world against the forces of darkness. It's a comic book scenario.

He bends his head and captures her lips for a soft kiss. They linger a moment before breaking apart. Simultaneously they move, sitting up on the cot, and stretching out their well-used limbs. She stops a moment and looks him in the eyes.

"Ready?"

"As ever, luv."

"Love me?

"Forever luv."

~~~~~~~~~

Robin pulls the bus out front and taps the horn. Almost immediately a string of girls files out the front door carrying various weapons and duffle bags. He watches them approach and can't help but feel both exhilarated and sad. These young women are warriors, or they soon will be, but they're also just scared little girls. It's not right that they should be called upon to do this. But, then again, when has anything in this world ever been right.

"Hi Principal Wood."

"Amanda."

She steps up onto the bus and it barely rocks form the additional weight.

**Such a little thing with such an enormous responsibility.******

**No. It' isn't right, but it's all we've got.**

A dozen or so girls are seated now, in the back of the bus. A few boxes of Pop Tarts are being passed around in the guise of 'sustenance for the fight.' Any excuse to get a sugar rush, Wood supposes. He smiles.

Minutes later, the rest of the girls exit the house, followed closely by Faith, Xander and Dawn. Faith lets the others in before her, and when she climbs the three steps, she stops in front of him.

"Hey." She smiles awkwardly.

"Hey yourself." They exchange a look and she moves on. Yep, if they both get out of this, he is definitely going to have to show that girl a thing or two about real life.

Giles leaves the house and walks over to his rental car, pulling out a rather impressive sword. As he walks over to the bus, Wood inquires about it.

"Very nice sword you got there, Rupert." They both laugh, suddenly at the inherent joke.

"Yes, well, it's an...old friend." Giles twists the object back and forth in the sunlight for Wood's inspection.

"A lucky charm?" Wood admires the scrollwork in the blade. It looks very old.

"Er...well, in manner of speaking, yes." Giles smiles and takes a seat behind the driver.

Anya and Andrew walk to the bus arguing about something.

"I won...fair and square!" He whines.

"You did _not, you little worm. My wheelchair was much faster. Besides, I threw your brake on when you were putting on your 'racing mask'."_

They take their seats. Andrew looks around at the assembled army. His eyes go wide when he rests them on Dawn.

"Wow...Dawn. You look...amazing." She turns to him, her face beaming, glad _somebody noticed._

"Th-thanks, Andrew. That's really sweet." She's ready, now. She feels she's passed some important woman-like test. Someone appreciates her, if only for a moment, and it feels good. She pushes away the sadness of knowing that no one else will probably get the chance. In a few hours she may be dead.

Willow and Kennedy are the next to arrive. They stroll down the walkway holding hands as if they haven't a care in the world. Wood watches them with envy and then he quickly glances back at Faith. She is watching them too and turns her gaze to him. He nods. She nods. He smiles. She smiles. They both hope they get the chance.

Buffy and Spike step out on to the shaded porch. She pulls the door tight and actually locks it, which causes Spike to chuckle.

"What?" She suppresses her smile.

"I don't bloody well think any burglars are roamin' about today, pet." He smiles brightly at her, understanding full well what she's trying to do.

"I know." She looks down in a moment of melancholy. His smile fades immediately and he caresses her face, pulling her head up.

"Baby...we'll make it and we'll come back here...and..." He searches her eyes. She smiles and steps into him, cupping his face. They kiss and in doing so they feel every pair of eyes on the bus staring at them, but they don't care.

Giles tilts his head and watches them. It's...moving, the display of love and affection. He suddenly feels like a great ass to have stood in the way of Buffy's happiness. How could he have been so blind to something staring him in the face? When this is over, he will make it up to her...them...somehow.

Buffy and Spike end the kiss, touching their foreheads together.

"I love you."

"I love you too, now get under the blanket and let's go kick a little demon ass." She smirks. He laughs aloud and throws the blanket over himself, making a mad dash for the bus. Robin is tempted to close the door on him...for a moment. When Spike stumbles inside, he locks eyes with the slayer-born son. There is a silent exchange of respect, warrior to warrior. Spike doesn't mistake it for anything other than a truce, and Robin doesn't offer anything more. Spike turns into the bus and stops when he sees the section of windows that have been blackened out. Shocked, he turns back to the Principal.

"Couldn't have you going up in flames...just yet." Wood says, his face expressionless, but his eyes full of determination. Spike grins and nods as Buffy comes up behind him. She looks at Wood and silently thanks him. He ducks his eyes.

"Everyone here?" Buffy surveys the assembly. Not bad. Not bad at all, actually. Everyone looks nervous, but ready for the fight. "OK. Let's go." The bus lurches forward and they're underway.

~~~~~~~

The trip to the school is short, but Buffy and Willow use the time to go over the plan one more time. It should work. Buffy squeezes her best friend's hand in assurance, noting the trepidation on her face.

"I have total faith in you, Will." She says softly. Kennedy squeezes Willow's thigh and gives her a small smile.

"I gotcha, baby." She looks up at Buffy as if to say 'I'm behind you all the way.' Buffy nods and walks to the front of the bus as it rolls to a stop.

"Ok everybody, this is it. I'm not going to give you a speech; I just want to say one thing." Everyone looks at her in anticipation.

"Win."

All of the faces show various signs of determination and fear. Robin opens the door and steps off the bus, followed by Buffy, a running, smoking Spike, and Giles.

~~~~~~~~

"Ok people welcome to Sunnydale High," Robin's voice echoes through the empty halls. "There's only one rule today: kill anything that moves."

Anya and Andrew head down the west wing. Robin goes to the east where Xander will join him. Buffy directs Faith and Spike to take the Potentials down to the seal. Dawn starts to head off with them, but Buffy grabs her arm.

"Dawn, no. You stay up-"

"No...Buffy!" Dawn's composure suddenly cracks at the thought of not fighting with her family.

"Dawn, I can't have you down there I won't be able to protect you!"

"Buffy, please. I can take care of myself. Don't separate us!"

"Dawn..." Buffy is proud of her sister's tenacity, but she really doesn't want her down there. She would lose focus. It's bad enough she's going to be worrying about Spike, but at least he is more than capable of handling himself.

"Giles!" The Watcher stops and turns to her, coming over. "You and Dawn take the Atrium. Can you hold from there?" Giles nods. Dawn quiets as she looks at her sister. There's no way Buffy is going to take her with her. She should've known. Buffy turns her face back to the younger Summers.

"Dawn I-"

"Don't." Dawn fights the rising tears. "Just...don't, Buffy. Anything you say is going to sound like goodbye." Buffy nods as her sister's face grows determined. Dawn grips the crossbow in her hand and she steps back a few inches. "Giles, let's go." She turns and walks down the hall. Buffy smiles, as does Giles.

"She definitely is your sister."

Giles, Buffy, Willow and Xander are left standing alone as the others take their places. It's almost like old times.

"What do you guys want to do tomorrow?" Buffy asks cheerily.

"I vote for Disneyland." Xander offers.

"Been there, done that." Willow replies. "How about some post-apocalyptic shopping?"

"Ooo! Yes. I have been jonesing for some shoes like you wouldn't..."

"I rather would like to drive to the coast for some..."

"Nah, I don't see why you women are always wanting to shop..."

"O-or maybe a trip to San Francisco to see the..."

Buffy, Willow, Xander break off and stride down the hall, splitting off one by one until Buffy is on her own. Giles shakes his head.

"Ah yes...ignored as usual." He heads to the atrium.  
  
When the Slayer arrives at the entrance to the Seal, Spike is there to greet her. They have a short, silent exchange before he gestures for her to enter while upstairs Willow prepares her spell. 

"You ready?" Willow asks her lover.

"Yep. Get it done." Kennedy replies.

"Ok...here goes something, I hope." She begins to chant, calling upon her goddess to give her the power to activate the ancient energy of the scythe. After a few minutes, Kennedy becomes uneasy. Nothing's happened yet, and she is beginning to question whether this will work or not.

Suddenly, energy shoots through Willow, and she gets a look of pure ecstasy on her face. Her hair turns a brilliant white and she begins to glow. Just then the girls in the cavern, as well as Kennedy, are imbued with the strength of a Slayer. Willow hands the scythe over to Kennedy as the spell dissipates.

"Get this to Buffy." Kennedy runs out of the room, leaving an exhausted but happy Willow to rest on the floor. "That was nifty."

Both Slayers and the former Potentials feel their powers instantly.

"Whoa...B, you feel that?" Faith asks the Chosen one.

"Oh yeah." She grins. One by one, the girls and Spike all slice their hands to drip blood on the Seal until it opens.

"We're going to Hell," Faith announces, and the girls descend into the ground. Everyone looks out over a vast canyon filled with Ubervamps.

"These guys are _so_ gonna be dust." Vi says, grinning in the euphoria of her newfound strength.

The vamps spot them and rush in. The gang launches into a massive attack and the new slayers are managing their powers impressively. Some of the Ubies escape upstairs, but run into the second wave. Giles takes down several, and Dawn holds her own, opening the roof of the atrium and bathing them in sunlight. On the other end of the hall, Xander manages to removes several Bringers' heads, but Wood takes a knife in the stomach. Xander beheads his attacker before it goes in for the kill, and helps Wood back to the entrance. Down the hall, more Bringers attack Andrew and Anya.

"Oh my! I'm...I'm scared!" Anya's revelation startles her. "I never thought I'd be so petrified. I thought _you would be, a-and I'd just be sarcastic about it." She clutches her sword awkwardly._

"It's ok, just...just think good thoughts." Andrew replies. "Sunny days...flowers...fluffy bunnies." Anya's expression goes dark.

"Bunnies?" She grins. "Big. Fluffy. Annoying. BUNNIES." She stands at the ready as the group attacks.

~~~~~~

Underground, the battle is raging. The girls fight impressively. Buffy, Faith and Spike fell several attackers with one blow. Buffy stops momentarily to assess the progress when something stabs her through her shoulder. She drops the scythe, clutching her limp arm in pain. Faith, seeing Buffy fall to her knees, fends of another vamp and goes to her side.

"Hold the line," Buffy says, thrusting the scythe to Faith who nods and goes back into the fray. She doubles over in pain as Amanda's limp body falls before her. The First taunts Buffy about her wound, but it only serves to irritate the Slayer. She manages to stand and fight again, her enhanced slayer strength giving her use of her arm rather quickly. The First disappears, and Buffy reclaims the scythe and goes berserk, killing every Ubie she can reach with the weapon.

Spike goes to strike down another attacker, but stumbles back against the wall as the amulet begins to take effect.

"Buffy." He whispers.

Suddenly a bright, electric energy shoots from it and through him, blasting through the roof of the cavern and the atrium, showering his attacker in a circle of bright sunlight. Upstairs, Dawn and Giles run out of the room to escape the falling debris.

"Buffy!" Dawn runs towards the seal, as Giles tries to stop her. She fights her way through the cavern and sees Spike pinned to the wall and in direct sunlight.

"Spike!" Buffy hears her sister's voice and spins to see her rushing over to him.

"Oh my God, Spike! Dawn!" She fights to get to them.

Just then, the sunlight channels through the amulet, cutting wide swaths across the cavern. It vaporizes all of the Ubervamps one after the other. Dawn, running to his aide, is caught in one of the shafts of light. She freezes.

Her body is held in suspension for a moment and Buffy screams, running to her side while also glancing over to her beloved. Just as suddenly Dawn is released. She collapses on the ground just as Faith reaches her.

"Oh my God, Dawn!" Buffy calls to her sister, but Faith can see Spike over Buffy's shoulder.

"B! I got her. Go to Spike!" She cradles Dawn's limp body in her arms. "Come on, Dawn, wake up." Dawn's eyes flutter open and Faith gasps. Her normally blue eyes are flecked with gold. Dawn smiles and releases herself from Faith's embrace, rising and turning to Spike. Faith grabs her arm and pulls, but Dawn won't budge. Her gaze is locked on the remaining vampire and her distraught sister who has just reached him.

As the light continues to pour from Spike, the cavern becomes unstable. Buffy rushes to his side. Faith manages to pull Dawn towards the entrance.

"Spike!" Buffy's eyes are wide with fear, for the first time today.

"I can feel it, Buffy!" He face is rapturous.

"What?"

"My soul. It's really there." He smiles. "Kinda stings a bit."  
  
Upstairs, the school is falling apart and everyone runs. Xander runs back inside after helping Wood back to the bus, calling for Anya. Andrew runs to him, a look of shock on his face. Xander studies him for a moment and understands. She is gone. Andrew's legs give out and Xander catches him, helping him out of the building.

Back in the cavern, Faith gets Dawn to the entrance and calls out to Buffy.

"OK, baby, you've done enough. Let's go!" Buffy pleads with him, but he shakes his head.

"No, Buffy, I've got to finish this." He doesn't look at her, but instead turns his head to Dawn who smiles. He returns it just as another wave of energy hits him, this one ten times stronger than the last and he is forced to shut his eyes. The light shoots out of the amulet carving a path of destruction along the far wall of the cavern. Large chunks of the ceiling fall to the ground. Dawn takes one last look at him and calmly takes Faith's hand and leads her around her.

"Go up, Faith, I'll wait for Buffy." Faith is about to protest, but it is stolen from her tongue by Dawn's gaze. She nods quickly and runs up the steps. Dawn turns back and walks over to her sister.

"Spike...no! No, you have to come. Let's go! Please..." She drops the scythe. Dawn calmly picks it up, her eyes locked on Spike's face.

"Please don't' leave me here alone...please! I love you!" Buffy is crying now.

"You're not alone, Buffy. You never will be again, lamb." He smiles at Dawn and then at his beloved. Buffy looks at her sister and notices a feint glow surrounding her. She looks back at Spike and sees the same aura but only more intensified. Her eyes are wide in confusion. She raises her hand and entwines her fingers in his. They catch fire and Buffy winces form the initial pain but then, through it, she feels something else.

"Oh. Oh my...Spike!" She looks up at him, tears flowing down her cheeks, and she smiles. "I feel it too! Your soul...it's...it's so...'

"Beautiful." Dawn finishes, smiling.

Another blast of energy and Buffy is thrown away from him. She and Dawn have to take a few steps back. She is about to rush forward again when his voice stops her.

**You have to go on living, pet, so one of us is living.**

Buffy looks up at him and their eyes meet. He is radiant in the sunlight...beautiful...glowing. It takes her breath away; she's never seen anything so gorgeous. She reaches her hand forward and he does the same.

**I love you...** she thinks.

**...til the end of time.** He replies.

Dawn grabs her sister and pulls her towards the entrance as the ceiling above them begins to crumble. She pushes Buffy before her and turns for one last look. Spike's eyes are closed and he looks so peaceful.

"Goodbye, Spike. I love you and I'll never forget."

He doesn't respond, but she knows. She knows.

~~~~~~

Working on pure adrenaline and instinct, they race back towards the entrance, dodging debris left and right. They practically dive for the back door of the bus as it peels away. Hands grab them immediately to help them aboard. Behind them, the ground is caving in on itself.

"Buffy! Dawn!" Willow rushes forth to hug them. She grabs some gauze from Vi, who has taken over a the resident medic, and presses it to Buffy's injured shoulder. "I'm so glad..." She is cut off by Buffy's expression. She looks at Dawn. "Dawnie...your eyes..."

There isn't time to finish the thought as Giles swerves the bus to avoid a collapsing wall. He speeds away from the Hellmouth with his foot on the floor.

~~~~~~

Back in the cavern the amulet's energy has changed. The beams are no longer shooting out, as the cavern is well on its way down. Instead a bubble forms around its bearer. He is barely conscious of the fact that the stinging has stopped.

"Ah." He moans, laughing. "I did it myyyyyyyy waaaaaaaaaay." His voice fades as the bubble of energy collapses upon itself and him, winking out in a single point of light.

~~~~~~

Racing away from the destruction, Dawn holds her sister on the floor of the bus; Willow helping to support her. Suddenly both sisters jump with a start and turn their heads back to the quickly vanishing town.

"No." Buffy breathes. Dawn places her hand on her sister's cheek and Buffy turns to her. "Spike." She whispers. Dawn responds silently, her eyes flickering gold and then returning to their brilliant blue.

They both know that he is gone.

They drive for another quarter hour before Faith calls out to Giles to pull over.

"We're clear!" The bus comes to a screeching stop as everyone who is able jumps out and goes back to survey the damage.

"Wow." Faith says.

"We did it." Vi responds.

"Yeah, we did it!" Rona exclaims. Xander and Andrew walk slowly to the edge of the crater.

"Uhhh...Andrew, did you...did she..." Xander's voice trembles. Andrew stops and turns to him.

"She was amazing. You would have been so proud." He smiles a small smile. "She died saving my life." Xander looks down at the word 'died'.

"That's my girl...always doing the stupid thing." He wipes at his tears angrily, forcing a sad smile.

Buffy and Dawn walk hand in hand to the edge and peer across. Buffy is lost, she doesn't hear or feel anything save the presence of her sister.

Her tears flow freely now. Spike is gone. Spike is dead. Dawn watches over her protectively, knowing exactly what she's thinking.

"I-I don't understand." Giles shakes his head. "What did this?" Willow and Xander walk up next to him and they all stare at the devastation in disbelief. Dawn and Buffy look at each other for a moment and then Dawn turns to Giles, her hair whipping in the breeze.

"Spike." She says softly, looking at each of them. Giles frowns and tilts his head. Xander's mouth drops open and he steps towards Buffy and places his arm around her shoulder. 

"I'm...sorry." He looks out over the horizon.

The others walk up one by one as the group looks back on what was once Sunnydale.

"Well...what are we gonna do now?" Rona asks shakily, thinking of all of the ones that didn't make it.

"Yeah, B. We're not the only ones anymore. Feels...good, doesn't it?" She walks up behind her. "So, what do you wanna do...now that the world's your oyster?"

The 'Welcome to Sunnydale' sign teeters in the breeze and falls into the crater.

Buffy smiles.

**Spike.**

TBC Epilogue: Gabriel's Message


	27. Epilogue: Gabriel's Message

**Title**: Gabriel's Message (Epilogue for Don't Stop the Dance)  
  


**Author:** Xionin

The letter in this chapter was written by Christie Kopitzke a/k/a Lynne C.  
It is from 'You Know Not the Day or the Hour: Part 2'

Her FF ID is 317384. I was so moved by her words, that she graciously  
allowed me to use them here. I highly recommend her work!

  
**Rating**: R  
  
**Pairing**: Buffy/Spike. Other major characters included.  
  
**Feedback**: I am working on the sequel to this story, which is really my Season 8. I hope to have the first episode done soon. The more feedback I receive, hint-hint, the more inspired I'll be to write it! Thanks again for reading and reviewing. You're all so very kind!

**Disclaimer**: Q: What should fans do now that they'll have an extra hour free in their schedule? A: "What should they do with that hour? Write fan fic." Joss Whedon, About.com

**Muchas**** Gracias: Miss Kitty and Siobhan – will you marry me? ;^]**

Enjoy!

~Xionin

Gabriel's Message

The letter has been sitting on the night stand for 3 days now. She wants to read it, she really does, but every time she reaches for the folded papers her hands begin to shake and she breaks down.

Every morning Dawn comes in with tea and asks her the same question. Not with words, but she asks all the same.

Have you read it yet?

Everyday the answer is the same; a tiny shake of her head.

No.

Today would be no different except that last night, when she awoke from the screams of her nightmares...again...Dawn had been there with her screaming. They'd both seen Spike. They had both awakened with his name in their throats.

"The light..." Dawn starts.

"...is so blinding." Buffy finishes. It's the first thing she's said for days. Dawn watches her sister reach for the folded paper. Buffy takes it in her trembling hands and turns to her.

Dawn looks down at it and takes it. Buffy nods. Dawn unfolds the intricate lock and reads the first line.

"It was written a few weeks ago." She looks up at her sister.

A few weeks ago things had been _very_ different. Three weeks ago, they were still separated by ignorance and fear.

Three weeks ago, the world was a different place.

It seems like a lifetime ago.

Buffy drifts away thinking of how much time she'd wasted with him; how much love they'd been denied. And all for nothing.

The feel of Dawn's hand on her leg brings her back. She looks into her blue eyes and frowns at the gold flecks that suddenly appear. Dawns smiles sadly, knowing what she sees.

"It comes and goes."

Buffy blinks slowly and looks at the papers in her sister's hands. She then returns her gaze to Dawn's who clears her throat and begins reading aloud.

~~~~~~~~

Dear Buffy,  
  
How to get this started? You should see the number of pages I've already tossed. It all sounds too cliché. 'If you're reading this, I must be gone…' all that rot.

  
It's tough, you know? We've said so much to each other over the years ~ can hardly be anything left, right? And still…here I am, trying to say good bye to you. Maybe I shouldn't even bother – things better left unsaid. But, in for a penny…   
  
First with the mea culpa part of the missive. There's plenty I've done to you or involving you for which I'm sorry…and it seems a bit pointless to make a list. You know what they are, and I think by now you know how I feel about them. But on one point, I need to be specific: I was wrong to try to draw you into the darkness. I think part of me even knew it then. But you've always fought so hard against the dark in your nature, and since this thing that's always been between us was a part of that darkness ~ I wanted to push back; make you realize that it was never so black and white as you'd been taught. Of course, I went too far. And that was wrong. Long before that last night upstairs, I'd gone too far. That said, part of your power does spring from darkness, and you'll never be at peace until you accept that. Coming to terms with it doesn't mean becoming it's agent. I tried to draw you to the dark and you resisted it because of who you are. The Slayer's power may have some mystical source in the forces of both good and evil, but Buffy Summers is a creature of the light. As hard as I tried, in the end, not only did you resist me, you pulled me towards that light. And though it's been a hell of a lot more painful than I could have imagined, I thank you for it.  
  
'You know not the day nor the hour.' That's from the Bible. Bloody funny, isn't it? Me a demon, but I remember all those things from when I was alive. William was a pratt, but he was a decent bloke. A bit like Xander, now that I think of it, but worse. Maybe that's why the whelp's always irritated me. William just tried so damned hard to please, to be accepted ~ too hard really...that was his trouble. So serious, so earnest. I wonder whether I'd ever have gotten a backbone if I'd lived? I sure spent all the years since then trying to be his opposite. But parts of him just stuck. A lot of the parts that drew me to you were his, and certainly if I ever managed to give you any comfort, or be of any use other than as muscle, that came from him. But you'd laugh yourself sick if you could see what he – I – was like back then. He's where the good stuff comes from, but he wasn't tough; not a survivor. He'd never have had anyone's back. To be of any real use to you, I had to be as I am. Go figure that one.   
  
But, I was going somewhere. 'You know not the day nor the hour.' I don't know how this battle's going to end. I know that it may be my chance to do things right. To make up for failing on the tower that night. And, if that's how it ends, it's probably much better than I deserve.   
  
'We're not all gonna make it. You know that.' That's what you said that night. I was so sure it would be me. And I was fine with that; ready for it, you know? There could have been no better way to end this sorry existence than to save both you girls – my girls – that's how I thought of you… still do, really. Then, that day in the alley, behind the Magic Box, after you came back ~ you told me what it had been like for you, when you were dead. I really was sorry you had to give that up. Not so sorry, of course, that I wasn't ecstatic to have you back, nevermind the circumstances. But it made me think about what a good place that must be, and how I'd never know what that was like. It wasn't supposed to matter to me, what came after this, but at that moment, it really did. I don't know where my soul was living before I got it back, and I don't know where it will go when this shell of mine is finally dust. But I can't think it will be anywhere like that. I'm not like you -- I've done too much.  
  
But if we could choose our own afterlife, I know what I'd choose. A place where I could be with you without crisis or struggle or fear ~ just somewhere I could love you without anyone's recrimination. You know, for all the shagging we did, and as mind-blowing as it was, I'd have given anything to make love with you, even just once. I knew you wouldn't have it; that wasn't what you needed from me, or could tolerate from me. Damned ironic! Your Agent Finn and I saw eye-to-eye exactly once, right after I narced out his nasty little habit to you. You probably never knew that he came to my crypt to bluster about for me, and warn me off you. I told him then that sometimes I envied him so much…but then sometimes I thought I'd gotten the better deal; that he could be that close to you and not have you was worse than just plain not having you…we passed a bottle back and forth for a while that day. Of course, then, like a git, he left when he knew he couldn't have it his way. For me, leaving for good was just never an option. Even when I'd put myself in the same bloody boat as him, just hoping that in time…eh, you know what I hoped. Some of it you were right about…what we were doing couldn't have grown into something better when it was coming out of so much anger and isolation. I get now that we both deserved better, not just in general, but from each other. Yeh, to rest in the light of your smile, and hold you peacefully in my arms, and just love you… that's what I'd choose. So, in the end, I guess you were right about that, too…after the consuming passion has taken everything I had, and made me do things I thought impossible, I want to just love you quietly like old married folks. Again, bloody ironic...   
  
You know, I always admired you; I studied you when I first came into town, fascinated with the way you fought ~ your confidence, your spirit, the way you committed to whatever you did, no matter what. And I could also see your fear and your isolation and how heavily your calling weighed on you. When we made that first truce, you were so determined to do what you had to do, but I could almost taste your despair. Course, that didn't matter much to me, so long as I could blow town. But, from then on the fix was in. Dru may have been one crazy bint, but she could see it long before I could, that we were connected. Dancing with you…well, it felt too good to want to end it. Little did I know where it would take us. Like how I've seen around most of those corners that you use to hide what you're thinking and feeling. You've fought me all the way on that, too…I always wondered how your friends could miss so much when they spent so much more time with you. But the times when you let the barriers down for me, and let me see you clearly…the enormity of that'd take my breath away, if I had any, even if it was only because my reaction didn't matter as much to you as theirs did. It meant that even if I didn't have your love, and probably never would, I had a part of your trust that no one else did. Not the part you held most important, of course. But, a fellow takes what he can! You've always hated it when I'd say I knew what was really going on in your head. Sometimes I was off, but more often, I had you figured out. I can almost hear your protests now, that I don't know you half so well as I think. But the way we can hold a conversation just looking at each other…you know I'm right.   
  
I guess this is where I have to give you some advice. You need to learn to accept love, Buffy. Was it Angel who made you push it away? Or was it that useless excuse for an absent father of yours? Or are the expectations of others' love just too much to add to the burdens you already have to bear? Objectively, I know why you had to reject what I represented to you when we were 'together'. But it goes further than just me ~ I just had the privilege of being the glaring example. You've insulated yourself against it, from all quarters, and then don't know why all your feelings are deadened. That's why. Two way street – give and receive. Both have to happen for the system to work.  
  
Now, speaking of Angel, and of how I figured into your emotional life, here's an unpopular idea that I'm compelled to point out – exercising my right as the departed, don't you know. Part of why you couldn't accept that I loved you without a soul is because if I was capable of it, then Angel was, too. And you couldn't deal with why he didn't. Now, I'm sure you're working up a head of steam reading this, but be honest. Angel's the formative experience that defined the meaning of souled and un-souled for you. You figured it out the way you had to in order to keep going, but that doesn't mean that the way you wrote it is the way it is. Getting my soul back didn't make me love you any more than I already did. Couldn't have, actually. It was about trying to be less of a monster. Because you couldn't love me that way, and also because I thought I'd already become more of a man, and it turned out I hadn't. And that I wanted to. But I'm not going to let you off the hook for why your feelings for me, and mine for you, were such a struggle for you.   
  
Enough about that ancient history.   
  
Finally, you have to know that the thing that kept me going in that cave with the First and it's minions doing their worst, was knowing that you believe in me. What I've done for you is so negligible next to what I've done to you, and yet you can offer me a gift as precious as your faith. It's…beyond what I can describe. Thank you.  
  
This letter was difficult to begin, and now it's difficult to end. I guess in a way if I keep writing, you'll have to keep reading, and that will put off the time when I'm really gone. I miss you. That sounds crazy, a particular specialty of mine of late, but being where you're not, how could I not miss you? Just thinking about being away from here and you makes me feel empty. So, I won't think about it, and I'll try to pull together what last few things I want to say.   
  
Know what an inspiration you've been to everyone around you.  
Know that none of them ever expected you to be perfect.  
Know that if people walk out of your life, it's because their bleedin' idiots, not because there's anything wrong with you.  
Let people take care of you sometimes.  
Be honest about what you feel ~ honest with yourself and your friends. Sometimes they go in circles trying to figure you out!  
Let those goldilocks of yours grow…you're always beautiful, but never more so than with your hair shining down over your shoulders. It was like having a handful of sunlight…  
Remember that Dawn still needs to be reminded that you notice her and that she's special. Kids are that way, needing reinforcement and all.  
  
I can't help hoping you might remember the few good things between us more than the rest of it.  
  
As ever ~  
  
Spike  
  
p.s. Keep any of my things, either in your house or at my crypt that you might want, or pitch them all if that appeals to you. And give the Little Bit a pick if she'd like anything for herself. There's a fussy fountain pen in a box under my cot that belongs to Giles…he'll be surprised to see it again.  
  


~~~~~~

Dawn's tears cloud her vision as she reads the final lines. She looks up at Buffy who has wrapped her arms around herself, her face the picture of grief. She reaches out and brushes the hair back from her face, gently running the back of her fingers down her cheek.

"Much of what he said here...about what he wanted...he had with you at the end, Buffy." She continues to stroke her sister's face and hair.

"Should've been more." Buffy's voice is weak and strained. "I could have given him so much more, Dawn." She stares off into nowhere. "So much wasted time."

"Don't think about what you didn't have, Buffy, because what you did have is more than most people could ever dream of." Dawn states quietly.

"I love him." Buffy whispers. "Everything about him. He's...he was..."

"And he loved you. What you are, what you do, how you try. Your kindness, your strength...the best and the worst of you." Dawn says dreamily. Buffy turns to her stunned.

"What?" Her eyes go wide with recognition. "_What d-did you...s-say?" She stares at Dawn as the gold in her eyes completely envelopes the blue._

Dawn sits mesmerized for a moment before she sags and shakes her head.

"I dunno."

Fin


End file.
